Castle
by Gabriella F
Summary: As the world is at a resource war, a research team has found a way to enter a second dimension. Inside the dimension, holds a powersource capable of restoring earth. In a desperate act, the military recruites Etrius, along with other soldiers who are members of the "Elite Team" to retireve the source and save mankind. Original series by Oscar Johansson of Deletionquality.
1. Prologue

Eons ago, in a parallel dimension…

The Ancients, an archaic, humanoid race, were fighting a brutal and endless war. They fought out of ignorance, evil, and hatred. The Ancients slowly discovered a psychic force springing up within many of their armies. This force gave them to power to read minds, and manipulate the brain. Little is known of their mysterious power.

Out of foolishness, and greed, the Ancients stretched their abilities beyond the limits, and spawned creatures, known as Evils. Darkness and unspeakable dread were spread among the stars, and even to parallel dimensions. Swarms of monsters and zombies were unleashed on the Ancient's home world.

The Ancients then reluctantly turned their attention from fighting each other, to fighting the Evils. The Ancient's losses were devastating. Countless numbers of the Ancients were massacred by the enemy.

Before total extermination, the wisest and most powerful Ancient psychic, The Wise One, vowed to protect their power. It must be kept secret before their universe collapsed in the hands of the Evils. And so, The Wise One used the last of his energy to seal the psychic power in one of three ancient stone fortresses.

The Castles.

During The Wise One's last stand, he wrathfully cursed all Evils, living and un-living, dead and in limbo, to be forever bound to guard the castles against any intruder. Two books with their true purposes yet unclear, were hidden in the castles. The third and most important castle held the psychic power of the ancients. The books sat in dust and darkness, circled by their undead guardians, undisturbed.

Until now.


	2. Chapter 1

The military chopper flew over the dark, grey, and empty landscape, back to the portal to get to the base. The highly trained helicopter pilot forced himself to pilot the chopper instead of looking back at Etrius. Although a soldier was examining Etrius' wounds, he kept his mind off slamming the auto-pilot button and looking back, just for a second, just to see how he was. But, he could tell by his reflection in the glass that he was far worse than what he had thought.

Etrius, the Team Infiltration Expert, shivered nonstop, violently. He sat slumped on the floor, his back leaned against the wall, his eyes rolled up. He was drenched with sweat and blood trickled down from his wounds. An Evil had bitten his side where his ribcage was, and white, glowing liquid poured out of it with a mixture of blood.

_Hope they know how to cure _that_._ The pilot thought to himself.

A sudden movement from Etrius caught everyone's attention. He lunged forward, and the soldier placed a hand on his chest to keep him calm until they got back to base for medical attention. Flashed of images and memories of the castle ran through Etrius' mind.

Beecher stood on the other end of the chopper, examining the book that he had retrieved from the castle. He brushed off some of the dust that still lingered on its cover. The red lights were too dim for him to see all the details on the book, but he could tell just by feeling it, it hadn't been touched in centuries.

He turned his eyes back to Etrius.

After two hours, they finally got back to the portal. They had built a base in the second dimension around the portal. A medical team was waiting for them as the chopper descended from the gray skies. As soon as it landed on the pad, the soldier hopped out and signaled the medics. They nodded in reply and brought the stretcher nearer to the chopper.

They lifted Etrius' body and carried him on the stretcher to the medical room. Although his eyes were rolled up, he could make out the door of the chopper and the blades as he was carried out. After the pilot left, Beecher stayed inside the chopper with the book until the General arrived.

"Will he make it?" The General asked Beecher as soon as he stepped in.

_Why don't you go ask the freaking medics?_ Beecher thought. "Well, he was bitten by one of those creatures."

"I see." The General replied distantly. His eyes scanned the chopper and he stopped short when he saw the book lying on the back seat. He reached out to grab it, but Beecher splayed a hand on it as if to say, _Don't touch it. _

The General shot him a menacing glare and Beecher automatically removed his hand, but not showing the slightest sign of fear. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was to get his ass kicked by the General.

Picking up the book, the General studied it's features. Hieroglyphics were engraved on the front cover and the pages were worn out and the edges crumbled. "So this is it, huh?" He said absentmindedly. He climbed out of the chopper and radioed in his earpiece. He cleared his throat and said, "Dr. Romanov."

"Ah, General yes, what do you need?" Dr. Romanov, the team scientist replied impatiently. He had a heavy British accent.

"Come here, ASAP." The General instructed.

"Well sir, I'm quite bust studying the book." Dr. Romanov explained. His tone told the General he couldn't be disturbed now.

After a long while, the General said, "We have the second book."

Dr. Romanov cried, almost immediately, "WHAT? Where? Don't touch it! I'll be right there!"

"Come to the helicopter pad." The General ordered plainly.

Dr. Romanov was in such a hurry, he forgot to turn off his earpiece. The General could hear his running footsteps.

Back at the Medical base, Etrius' heavy breathing had died down a bit, but his trembling grew faster. He kept having flashbacks of the last two castles, fighting the dragon with the body of a snake, getting bitten, and limping back with the book in his arms.

Blood. Blood. Blood. The same word repeated itself in his mind. The image of the Evil biting him and the pain he felt surge through him replayed itself over and over in his mind.

Then, all at once, he escaped his flashbacks, gasped, and stood upright in the bed. He was inside an empty, dark room and a fan swirled slowly on the other side of the room. He knew immediately he was inside a medical room. Bandages were wrapped around his forehead and a dull throbbing pounded his brain.

A powerful voice echoed in the back of his mind, "Release me."

~ THREE MONTHS EARLIER~

A soldier opened the door to the General's office and Etrius was pushed in. Handcuffs locked his wrists.

"Ah," The General said after the door closed behind him, "Long time no see."

"Do you realize I can break these damn things as easy as your neck?" Etrius said between his teeth. It didn't sound like a question. His green eyes glared menacingly at the General.

"Yes, but it was to see if you'd cooperate or not," The General replied, ignoring his threat, "Retirement made you soft, or something?"

"What do you want?" Etrius barked.

"Same old Etrius, straight to business, eh? Okay, I'll level." He sucked in a deep breath. The light that bathed in from the window didn't exactly lighten Etrius' mood, nor did the lazily spinning fan.

"I'm… having some problems, Etrius," He started, "Ever since you left I haven't had a single reliable man for those kinds of missions you're notorious of. You _are_ the only man in this one."

"You know I'm retired," He felt as if he had to repeat the remark over and over a hundred times, "I don't do this anymore."

"You don't _have_ much of a choice on this one, Etrius." The General growled.

"Believe me, I do." His tone was filled with impatience and rage.

"You're the only man on Earth who could possibly accomplish this kind of task."

It was true. Etrius was the best infiltration expert of all military forces- one of the many reasons he was a member of the elite team. The elite team was a group of four soldiers who were hired to do very complicated and seemingly impossible types of tasks.

"This shit again?" Etrius sighed.

"I'm serious, as always." The General eyed him as Etrius tilted his head from side to side, making a cracking effect.

After he got no response, the General continued, "Do you believe in… Different dimensions?"

Etrius sighed. Why did he get the feeling he didn't want to hear more?

"For a long time, theories of parallel universes have existed," He lit a cigarette and took a slow drag. He kept it between his lips, "Places where the laws of nature don't necessarily have to be the same as here," He slid three top secret files in front of him and opened the flap, "No further away than the width of a shadow without us being able to see or go into them."

"Someone's been to crazy town." Etrius remarked.

The General ignored him, "Four months ago, a research team managed, for the first time, to open a link between two universes. Ours, and one never seen by us. This newly discovered universe is a dark, deserted world.

"After four months exploring a lonely vast, a helicopter pilot spotted what seemed to be…" He eyed Etrius, "A castle." The General turned the page, revealing large, grey, lifeless, landscapes that stretched as far as the naked eye could see. Four other pictures revealed the castle. Four towers with jagged ends surrounded the center and the tallest stood inside the barriers. A dark, wooden gate remained shut, like it had been that way for years. The gray atmosphere blended with it and the ground below it. Large mountains and highlands scattered about the vacant realm.

"A team of scientists were sent in for investigation," He paused for a count, "None of them were found again. There _is_ something in that castle. Something evil."

Etrius stared at the ceiling in annoyance, "I'm not some goddamn archaeologist," He looked back at the General, "Stop wasting my time." By now, he was ready to snap his handcuffs in two. He raised and dropped his shoulders, aware of the rage and impatience to break the General. But even so, he listened to what this nun had to say.

"Etrius, someone must've built those castles, an ancient culture. We believe they used some sort of…" He took a drag from his cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke, "Power, using it as a world resource. Imagine yourself what would happen if mankind got its hands on _that_." Instead of giving a response, Etrius he looked down at the floor, as if he expected it to open a black hole and have himself fall in.

"We don't _need_ to fight about Earth's last resources. No one's struck oil for decades, the Rainforests are nearly gone, and the oceans are flooding cities. _Earth is dying._" He remained silent for a long time, "This power-resource is our… last hope," A sigh, "All of your old team members have already been sent in. They're waiting for you."


	3. Chapter 2

Dr. Romanov's eyes rapidly, but carefully scanned the pages in the book, translating the hieroglyphics, keeping in touch with the chopper that was now flying over the vast landscape, in search of the castle, awaiting orders and directions from him.

He had deciphered just enough of the ancient language to distinguish that the Wise One had left directions to get to the castle holding power-source, while simultaneously in radio with a chopper that was searching for the third castle. The intense lights in the lab seemed to dim out on him as he decoded the foreign language.

_יענע וואס ווינטשן צו דערגרייכן אין קומט די לעצט שאַטאָו__, מוזן טרעד פופצן__-טויזנט פוצטעפּס כעדלאָנג__._

"This must mean…" He mumbled taking his time, considering the language was to be read from right to left, making it slightly more difficult. Each word, each letter, had to be translated correctly, or they'd mess up, and have to start over again.

_Those who wish to attain in entering the final chateau, must tread fifteen-thousand footsteps headlong._

He pressed his earpiece, signaling the chopper, "This is Dr. Romanov. Change your direction fifteen degrees north." He heard the chopper's blades spinning over the radio, turning. Looking at the foreign lyrics, and the English-written translation once more, just to make sure he got everything right, he sighed, expressive to how fatiguing, and puzzling translating new languages were.

He carefully turned the page, noticing the dust and dirt that crumbled off, which revealed a new chapter. No more directions.

Hearing footsteps by the entrance of the lab, he turned around and saw the General standing by the door. The willing and impatient expression on his face told the doctor that he needed to hear progress.

"I think we got it."

The sound of Beecher's footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as he passed the room where the General and Dr. Romanov were in. Their silhouettes alone were visible through the thick glass and their voices were muffled. He didn't waste his time to try to guess what they were saying. His red colored eyes focused on the door that Etrius was behind.

Deficiency of sleep had all but done him good. Dark circles under his eyes were undetectable the first day, but after that, he looked like a sleepless zombie. Although he looked like he could make it another day, deep down, he knew he wanted to just slam himself into slumber. He pretended that he was perfectly fine, but he couldn't hold up the act for long, much less no longer cared.

As he opened the door, the vibrant light spilled through the room and he saw Etrius sitting halfway across the bed, sulking. His eyes squinted immediately against the sudden blast of intense light against the darkness. Purple dots danced and lined across his vision. Dried blood was visible through the bandages that wrapped his forehead.

Beecher threw his lack of sleep aside when he looked at Etrius, and his thoughts blurted out of his lips, "You're awake," He started, "You look like shit."

"I've had better days." Etrius replied as Beecher shut the door, unwelcome to the light that poured in to the dark room, and walked up to him.

"Sleep deprivation, Beecher?" He asked as Beecher pulled out a chair and slumped down. Etrius tenderly fingered his wound and flinched at how intense and brittle the pain was.

"Nonstop for 46 hours. Of course, you've been sleeping… Bastard." Beecher replied out of jealousy. Whenever he spoke, his voice seemed to have a jagged, yet natural flint in his tone, expressing his authority and determination to get things over with and out of the way.

If there was one thing he wanted right now, it was to put himself in Etrius' shoes and sleep. Forget pain, he wanted rest!

"So what's the score?" Etrius asked, his green eyes never leaving Beecher's. His scowl still lingered in his face. Etrius urgently wanted to know exactly what had happened since he retrieved the book from the second castle. The pain and the strange voice he heard when he woke up seemed to zone out on him, as his main intention was: wanting to know everything he missed since he fell unconscious.

"That crackpot Romanov thinks he's found another castle." Beecher stuck a cigar in his lips and frantically searched for a lighter, needing _something_ to keep him awake; as he felt sleep's tempting fingers grip the back of his mind. Etrius wasn't entirely surprised by this. The pain started rushing back to him.

"So there's a third one?" Etrius asked. The intense light spilled into the room when another soldier swung open the door and walked in.

Realizing he'd probably dropped his lighter on the way over, and flicking the cigar aside, Beecher murmured, "Ugh, maybe."

"Etrius." The soldier said plainly, noticing that Etrius was now awake.

"Lloyd?" Etrius exhaled. Not even Lloyd's presence could let the aching dissipate.

Lloyd was the blades and melee expert of the Elite Team. Although his silence and isolation described the best of him, he was one of the very few people that Etrius could trust or rely on.

"Did you have a good nap?" Lloyd's words didn't exactly sound like a question under his slight British accent, "The General just briefed me. He wants us all the gear up. They've confirmed the location of the third castle."

Beecher had a say in this, "No rest for the wicked." Etrius' thoughts spun wildly, trying to get ahold of what the hell the General was thinking. He just came back from the second castle, injured, and then he was told to get his ass back _up_ and accomplish yet_ another_ mission.

"I've been up for forty-six hours with Beecher so, uh, move your ass and get prepped." Lloyd's tenor in his words seemed crisp, but easily spoken.

"Where's Boomer?" Etrius asked. Boomer was the Elite-Team demolitions expert, who's also been involved in many missions with Etrius, Lloyd, and Beecher.

"He's waiting for us at the helicopter pad." Lloyd replied.

"Are we going alone?" Beecher asked. Etrius noticed a slight edginess in his tone.

"No, the General saw it fit to give us twenty men." Lloyd responded with a familiar grace and easiness behind his words.

"Shit. They're all dead men." Etrius said as a flash of an Evil's ugly, humanoid face ran across his vision. He gave no reaction.

Reciting the memories of the last two castles, Etrius thought it'd be a miracle if half the soldiers got in and out alive.

"Come on, let's move before Boomer challenges the others to a wrestling match," Lloyd stood in front of Etrius in expectation, "Don't want anyone to die early."

As the General opened the door to the lab, he paused at the sight of Romanov standing two feet away from him. He was cradling the book in his hands and looked as if he were going on break.

The General's face hardened, but truly, he was confused. He cleared his throat, "Dr. Romanov." He said boldly. On the inside, his voice quality sounded like a question.

Dr. Romanov smirked, but it was undetectable beneath his gray mustache. His gray hair fell in loose ends over his head, "Ah, General yes. I'll have to see this myself."

The General stared at him.

Two hours later at the helicopter pad, Beecher reloaded his sniper and looked through the zoom lens just to make sure it's working. Etrius, Lloyd, and Boomer were the next ones to climb in the chopper.

Lloyd gripped his sword firmly and then sheathed it back into the scabbard that hung from a strap on his back. Boomer walked five steps behind him. He held his rifle as it rested on his shoulder. His dirty blond hair wafted to the side in the wind and a smile that showed his teeth defined his lust to smash zombie skulls.

As they climbed in, Etrius was the last one on. Their figure details were blogged out to be silhouettes by the red light that laminated from the chopper. Etrius counted there to be six choppers. He saw the General and Dr. Romanov climb into one nearest to them.

_He's taking the Doc with us? I hate it when he does thing and never tells anyone._ Etrius screamed in his thoughts.

After the Riverine Sailors signaled the chopper to lift off, Etrius felt his feet as if they were kicked off the ground and they were on their way.

The pilot remained silent as he pivoted the aircraft. He just wanted to do his job and leave the dirty work to the soldiers. But at the same time, he really wanted them to get that power source to save earth.

Boomer thought if the pilots needed any special training for flying a chopper in a second dimension. Although there was oxygen and they didn't need to wear bulky space-suits, and the gravity was just like their world, they were probably just picked at random to enter this mission. His attention turned to Lloyd.

Lloyd just sat at the seat next to Boomer. His sword seemed to make him stand out in power. His expression was hard and his brown eyes seemed distant. His attention turned to Etrius.

Etrius just stood up and clasped the handle on the ceiling to keep his balance. His only goal was to save Earth. Although that was a part of the General's orders, he ignored the requests he is given and calls them his own. There were only three people he would rather work with: Boomer, Beecher, and Lloyd. His attention turned to Beecher.

Beecher sat with his rifle loaded in his arms. A strap with extra bullets was wrapped over his shoulder and around his waist. Out of all the soldiers, he was the best at sniping. He could shoot someone two hundred feet away without having to look through the zoom lens.

Etrius felt like four hours had been stretched into four years. A wave of relief, and somewhat a bit of strain washed over him when they finally noticed the castle looming towards them in the distance. Etrius was amazed, but he didn't show it. When he saw the first two castles, he thought The third one would probably be a bit larger, maybe even double their size, but, this was _superior_. It was far from what he had imagined. The majestic design and bewildering architecture that put all other building designers to shame stretched new bounds to his imagination.

As the choppers landed in the courtyard, the General hopped off and shouted over the roaring wind of the blades, "Move, Move, Move!" He gestured the other men to follow him.

Beecher, Lloyd, and Boomer jumped off and followed the General to the entrance. Etrius lingered in the chopper and stared at the powerful mightiness of the castle. A sudden feeling of familiar dread spread over him. His eyes felt tired and weary, but at the same time, an inviting and yet powerful presence filled him up and shook him down to the core. The feeling soon dissipated into nothing when he stepped off the chopper and followed the others.

Grey mist blocked him from seeing below his knees. The sound of the soldier's footsteps on the gravel pounded through the air in the thick silence. Four of them moved ahead and kneeled down, aiming their rifles, ready to fire at any Evils that might jump out at them.

"Don't let your guard down, soldiers!" The General shouted over them.

Dr. Romanov was having them time of his life, scanning the castle, the architecture, amazed by how one person could have built all this, "Fascinating." He breathed. The General eyes gazed up with a hard expression, ignoring him. A long stairway that led the pathway around the towers to higher elevation seemed the only possible way for them to get to the altar room.

Beecher leaped up on top of a grey brick wall and aimed his sniper at the gates, peering through the scope. It was too far away for him to zoom in on a hundred feet. He set it to five hundred and noticed large stones and rubble blocked the gates to enter the castle. Easing his grip on the rifle, and without turning his eyes, he announced with a slight annoyance, "Looks like we'll need those explosives, Boomer."

The General removed his eyes from their sharp gaze and walked to the stair pathway. The others followed. Moving at their slow speed to keep the unsteadiness of the pathway from collapsing, it would take time to reach the top. They rounded a tower and kept their ears on high alert.

As they rounded a second tower, Dr. Romanov stood on the edge of the walkway to get a better view of the towers and walls on the other side. He had no battle field or military training, so he could walk right into certain danger and not notice a thing. The stone crumbled beneath his feet and he started to fall. A soldier caught him from behind.

"Careful there, Doc." The soldier warned.

"I'm alright. I'm alright." Dr. Romanov replied, brushing dust off his shirt. He glanced a look down the large fall that he could have ended up in. He heart was still pounding heavily in his chest and threatened to flat line. He looked down in his arms. He still had the book. At least it gave him some solace.

At last, they reached the end of the stair pathway. The wooden gates were larger than they seemed through Beecher's sniper. They stood as tall as a thirty story building would stand. Boomer examined the stones and gestured his hand to a nearest private, "Give me those explosives."

Boomer felt the explosives being plopped into his hand and he set the explosion range on a c4 timer, "Alright. Everything seems to be in order."

The General shaped a harsh stare at the gates. Nothing ever impressed him.

"OKAY!" Boomer shouted in warning, "STAND BACK!" He quickly scooted out of range as the timer clinked and the discharge scattered debris. The sound of the detonation echoed far out over the entire grey castle, and died away in the distance. The wooden gate was also burst open. Black ashes and singes lingered on the edges.

What little light outside offered slopped over a large room about the size of a football field. The ceiling was somewhere far above their heads. It was too high for them to see the end of it. A stairway led down to a narrow bridge that took them to the altar room. Lining the edges of the room stood giant statues of the Ancients. Wearing robes and hoods that covered their faces, they leaned down and a sword was clasped in their hands, the point of it dug into the ground.

The General and the others slowly walked in, weapons raised, alert for any Evils that might jump out and kill them instantly. Lloyd carefully scanned his surroundings as he walked down the stairs. Boomer didn't have to be careful. Any Evil that might hurdle itself at him would promptly lose his arm. Boomer was practically the strongest team member.

"The Ancients," Dr. Romanov boasted, "Eh… I must say I'm impressed. I've never seen this kind of… It's amazing, don't you think? Ay, look at it! It's… my, God."

The soldiers walked across the bridge, staying alert. Some of them thought taking the Doc was too risky for him and for them. Some thought his loud remarks were attracting attention of the Evils, while he had absolutely no military training.

"Just imagine…" Dr. Romanov continued, "How long this would've taken to build! Just look at it! Look at the architecture!" Behind his glasses, were amazed eyes diversified with disbelief.

At the end of the room, an archway led to another area.

The altar room.

Stepping inside, a large gray pyramid with no hollow loomed over their heads in the center of the football field sized room.

"Ah, yes. This must be the room where they… keep it." Dr. Romanov announced, his raspy voice echoed throughout the large room.

Although they couldn't see it, it was obvious that the power source was at the top of the gray pyramid.

Around the other sides of the room, more archways lead to outside. Five of them surrounded the room. The General gestured Etrius to follow him and he started climbing up the pyramid. Etrius was soon at his side, grimacing, and wondering if he didn't have to go through a hassle like the other two castles. This one was surprisingly unguarded. If this castle holds the power source, then wouldn't that mean the security would have to be doubled or even tripled?

Dr. Romanov turned his attention to the walls, "There appears to be symbols carved into the stone." He ran his fingers along the hieroglyphics, scanning them. He flipped through the book and began to translate.

The General gestured his men to guard the exits. Five of them guarded one exit. No Evils had attacked them since they came. _Why?_ The General thought to himself as his eyes ran around the room. _Maybe this castle doesn't have guardians._

Dr. Romanov whispered, "Fascinating."


	4. Chapter 3

**_Etrius carefully glanced around the corner, trying best not to be seen by any of the guards. He subdued a groan of disappointment when he saw there to be eight of them, and heavily armed. Security cameras stared at every inch of the next hallway. Turning back to Lloyd, who stood behind him, gripping his sword tightly, he shook his head._**

**_ Lloyd's tense face fell, "So, what do we do?" He whispered, "That bomb is set to go off in an hour, and take all the hostages with it. We still haven't even found the control room."_**

**_ Etrius rumbled a grunt from the back of his throat, demanding an idea to come to him, as time was slipping away, like sand falling between his fingers. Observing the guarded hallway again, he looked at the security cameras, and clenched his teeth. They'll have to do this the long way._**

**_ He whispered, "We'll have to shut down the cameras, first."_**

**_ Despite all the other missions that have been easy for Etrius, this one was the most complex. It was probably, because the hostage situation was led by the most dangerous criminal wanted by the FBI. What he wanted was simple; "Five barrels of water or the hostages die." _****Look at what the Resource War has done to us. Bombing an entire building, destroying hundreds of lives for a few casks of water.****_ The thought send him a fuming chill down his spine whenever he thought of it. As this problem had first sprung up, it was obvious the Elite Team was going to be needed for this specific mission. Finding a way to sneak into their HQ, Lloyd and Etrius were sent in through another part of the building that was believed to have the control center nearest. _**

**_ "We won't have enough time to find the source to shut down the cameras. By then, it'll be too late." Lloyd argued quietly._**

**_ Etrius' fists tightened their grip on nothing in rage. Although Beecher and Boomer were working on finding the building and getting the hostages out, Etrius and Lloyd had to find a way to stop the bomb's countdown. Shit, what can he do?!_**

**_ Letting go of his tenseness, he came to a decision, "The fastest way is to just burst through and find it quickly. We have to forget about not risking being seen. He won't detonate the building with the hostages once he sees us, since he knows we have what he wants."_**

**_ Lloyd nodded in understanding and they charged._**

**_ The sound of their heavily running footsteps brought the guards to their full attention. Instantly, they raised their rifles and started firing._**

**_ Lloyd, having been trained especially for accuracy, was able to dodge most of the bullets no problem and he didn't waste a minute before lashing out with his sword. Etrius clasped the two pistols and started firing nonstop._**

**_ Lloyd plummeted to the guard nearest to him and gave the second one a roundhouse kick, knocking them both out promptly. His foot collided with another's stomach, causing the air in his lungs to be forced out, and he fell to the floor from the sudden impact._**

**_ Another guard behind Lloyd, which he didn't notice, aimed for a headshot. Etrius had other plans. He unsheathed his sword and slashed at the guard's back in a blur, and finished the attack with a few rounds from his pistol. The guard stumbled back in surprise and howled in pain, faltering, and unable to stand any longer._**

**_ Not wasting any more time looking at the fallen guards, they ran on to meet what other problems dared to face them next. Etrius risked a second's glance at the security cameras as they watched them run to the next hallway._**

* * *

Etrius' eyes wandered from the General back to the top of the pyramid. The stairway seemed to stretch on forever, and this triggered his impatience. Even so, he gave no reaction.

Ten steps left. He counted them down until he reached the top.

Three…

Two…

One…

His paused on the final step and he beheld down at the power source. The General stood beside him, gazing at the black orb that stood in the center of the floor. Etrius uttered a low groan from the bottom of his throat. _All this shit for a fucking orb?_ The General's words snapped his attention back to authenticity.

"Excellent, now let's take it home, Etrius," The General and Etrius' eyes met, giving off expressions of bitter antagonism, "Give it to me."

Etrius hesitated for a second, and as much as he hated it, he knew better than to argue. Walking over and cautiously plucking it from where it lay, he was surprised when the artifact was lighter than he thought. A strange, cold sensation radiated from the orb.

Dr. Romanov carefully studied the hieroglyphics and translated them in a whispered tone, his finger lining the ancient words as he read, "It's taken me."

Etrius clasped the power source protectively in his hand and walked back to the General, aware of the usual hatred that seemed to burst off him and stab his soul. The General eyed him with impatience and determination.

* * *

"It's…" He squinted, trying to read the worn out words more easily, "Using me." Dr. Romanov continued to translate. His tone growing higher in elevation, "It's _eating_ me."

* * *

Etrius held out the power source to the General, but stopped short when he saw a light emit from the orb and vibrate up his arm and into his mind. His eyes slowly bulged and his iris thinned as he saw flashes of images.

He saw it all.

_Etrius couldn't tell where the hell he was, or why he was there in the first place. Light filtered in from the clear window, and a wooden desk stood on the other side of the room. The faint lingering smell of cigars expressed the General's office, and he knew exactly where he was standing, but, why? He was in the altar room just a second ago. He touched the orb._

_ Six men in front of him, seeming to be deep in conversation caught his attention. He recognized one of them as the General and the others as his superiors._

_ "You know we need it." One of the taller ones said in a hushed tone, probably trying to keep the conversation secret, as he heard footsteps and muffled chattering outside the door._

_ "I know, I know. But, there just seems to be no other way," The General replied, the distance in his eyes exposed his depth in thought._

_ Glowering at the confusion, Etrius walked up to the General, "Want to tell me what the hell's going on? How did we get here?"_

_ The General paid him no attention and continued on with the seemingly vital conversation._

_ "Hey!" Etrius barked, louder this time, "I said-" Placing a hand on the General's shoulder in hopes of getting his attention, he muted himself from gasping when his hand sank right through it._

_ Slowly processing what was going on, he comprehended that this was a flashback. Seeing nothing else to do, he listened into the conversation, wondering what was so important about the General and his superiors._

_ "Right now, the Elite Team is the utmost solution, despite their expulsion." Another said immediately after the though entered his mind. Etrius gradually presumed the date of the flashback: Before his recruitment._

_ The General seemed to ponder this, "You want them recalled?" He said each word carefully, trying to process what they thought they were asking for._

_ The superior nodded, "Starting with the infiltration expert."_

_ Etrius felt like he had to show the General_ some_ tolerance, since the original idea to recruit him wasn't entirely his. The thought was ripped to shreds when he heard the next subject they had to say._

_ "If our intention is isolating the power-source on behalf of ourselves, what should we tell the soldiers working on the project once they don't see any changings in the resource war?"_

_ Silence settled over the room, despite the lazily spinning fan on the ceiling. The looks on their faces told each other they were stuck without an answer. The tallest superior broke the silence, "We'll think of something soon enough."_

_ Etrius was too shocked to even move, and black tinged the edges of his vision. The words rushed at him too fast for him to digest. He felt his mind as if it was working slower than usual. Did they just say that? He revisited every word of the conversation to make sure he wasn't hearing things. Rage and fury plummeted inside of him. They want the power source all for themselves?!_

* * *

His mouth gaped, and his eyes ogled, baffled, into distant space, as if looking for something lost, and he dropped the power source. It landed on the floor, soundless. It didn't break, and the General leered at him in confusion.

"What?" Etrius said suddenly, shock and confusion circling his voice as he stepped back in surprise, keeping distance, as he could now feel the General's cold breath as if it were running down his neck, "Did you know about this? …Of course you did." Etrius shut his eyes, wishing the lingering images would fade from his memory.

* * *

"I felt its touch."

* * *

"You knew about this all the time, all these deceits… You've lied to all of us," Etrius continued as his eyes opened. It seemed to him that whenever he looked at the General's face, all he saw were the details that justified a deceiver and betrayer.

The General noticed a spark of light emit from his iris. He passed it off as a trick of the light that poured down from above them through an opening in the ceiling. Etrius' voice quaked with rage and despair, as he realized the true reason they were sent on this mission, "We're not here to save Earth!"

"Son, I don't quite follow you. Now, hand _over_ the artifact." The general ordered coolly.

* * *

"I felt it grow, and it consumed me."

* * *

"No, you're being brainwashed," His breathing grew heavy in a panicking mode, "They're just using you as a _puppet_ to get their hands on the power." He pressed his templates in stress, but jerked when the General pulled out a pistol and aimed at him. _That tears it._ The General thought in irritation.

"Etrius, I will put you down if you don't cut this shit out and hand over the artifact, _now._" He threatened with an annoyed and angry expression. The sharpness in his voice seemed to cut the air. Although on the outside, he was performing confusion on what Etrius was saying, on the inside, he was puzzled by something entirely different. How?

Etrius glanced down at the orb he was holding. The thought of what the General was going to do with it wouldn't show itself into his thoughts. Despite that, he knew that if the General wanted the power-source, not to save Earth, and keep it for himself, then millions would die, and millions more later. He wouldn't allow the General to just take the only hope of ending the resource war.

Etrius looked back up at the General, whose face now wore that usual impatient appearance. "I can't." Was his only response.

"Goddamn it! I'm doing this for Earth!" He shouted almost immediately. His right hand clutched his pistol, his left gripped anger. "Don't you understand? If we can take control of the resource war, it _will_ come to an end!" He paused, "Yes… A war to end all wars… Don't you want it to _end_!? Millions of lives could be saved with that one artifact. Now, just give it to me, so we could leave!" He didn't hesitate in shouting, knowing nobody downstairs could hear them, as it was too far down.

When Etrius didn't answer, the General added, forcing resolve into his voice, "I don't want to do this, Etrius, but you're leaving me without an option."

No. Etrius wouldn't believe his lies.

* * *

"Death will slay with wings. Whoever disturbs it… Beware." Dr. Romanov finished. Then, he realized something so mystifying, yet so simple, he couldn't help but decipher it.

"The Wise One… He has… _Repeated_ it all over again, and _again_. It's all over the place! Just look! Wait, h-he did this for a reason! It's-" His eyes rapidly ran along the engraved walls, "It's a _warning_!" He whizzed around and shrieked; his body arching forward as he yelled, "GENERAL! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!" His breathing grew heavy from panic, "WE'LL GET _SLAUGHTERED_!"

After he got no response, he turned to Beecher in hopes of getting the responsiveness he urgently needed, "Beecher, they're not listening. They're fighting over something. We have to hurry!"

Beecher didn't bat an eye, and turned his head away; ignoring anything else he had to say. Although deep inside of him, he wanted to take his warning seriously, he knew he had to stay in position until the General gave him the order to move.

"It's important!" Dr. Romanov tried unsuccessfully to get the any of the soldier's attention. Realizing that his warnings wouldn't do any good, he ran to the exit he came through and saw two soldiers guarding it, "You, you! Over there! Come with me if you want to live!"

The soldiers looked at each other in confusion. Their visors on their helmets blocked their eyes, but it was obvious their expression.

"Those fools have no idea what's going on!" Dr. Romanov continued as he sprinted through, "Do the smart thing, and come! Come with me!"

The soldiers acted on instinct and followed.

"Hurry!" He shouted back to them as they ran.

As the soldiers eyed the doctor and the two privates leave, one of them announced he was going to tell the General what was going on. He didn't really pay attention to what Dr. Romanov was trying to warn them about. Nevertheless, whatever it was, it sounded important enough to interrupt whatever it was that was going on at the top of the altar.

Pushing his valor, he ascended up the stairs.

* * *

"Last chance, Etrius." The General warned, raising his pistol higher, securing the aim between Etrius' eyes.

"I can't!" Etrius repeated as pull focus clouded his vision between the General and the pistol. The General's raging facial features defined his hatred towards the unchanging answer.

Etrius still couldn't- no, didn't _want_- believe what he had just saw. He knew the General was hiding secrets from the world, but he wasn't expecting _this_.

"General," The soldier said, "Romanov just left."

The General showed no sign of interest.

Realizing that the General wasn't thinking of how important the situation was, he added with a slight tone of panic, "The situation looks pretty bad. He took two of our men. He said something about-"

Etrius cut him off short, "Shut-" he thrust his hand out, "UP!"

The soldier's head and limbs were ripped off by an invisible force. The blood and plasma gushed and sprayed, showering the altar with red stains, and the General swore in astonishment.

The General took a moment to stare in awe. Finally, something amazed him.

Etrius stared at what he'd just done, and looked at his hand. _Did I do that?_ With anger overwhelming him, and taking the power to his advantage, he looked at the General and focused on his powers, his eyes glowing even brighter than before. The look on his face screamed the words, _You're next._

Dead-lock.

Acting out of panic, the General freely pulled the trigger. Etrius saw the light from the barrel of the gun flash out and a bullet collided with his forehead, and he fell.

* * *

Downstairs, the soldiers raised their rifles in question and alarm, "Hey, a gunshot?" "What the fuck was that?" "You heard that too, right?"

Beecher felt a spark in the back of his mind and it quickly faded as he looked up the pyramid. Ignoring everything, he started running to Etrius and the General.

More questions sprang up from the soldiers, "Beecher, where're you goin'?" "Hey, Beecher." "Beecher! Where are you _g__oing_?"

* * *

Red blocked Etrius' vision, but he could make out the silhouette of the General bending over and picking up the orb. He felt his blood run dry as it trickled down his forehead, and ooze out of the gunshot wound. Forgetting the striking pain, and throwing the shock aside, he focused on trying to get up, knowing he had to tell someone about him. Tell them what he knew he was really doing behind their backs. He threw the thought away when he realized all his failed attempts to get up wouldn't do any good.

The General looked into Etrius' dying eyes, as the light slowly faded from them. The General's words sounded distant as he said, "What just happened, Etrius?"

Etrius fell into darkness before his eyes closed.

The General held the orb closer to him as he made his way down the stairs. A strange feeling filled him to the brim, a feeling he couldn't decipher. Confusion? Relief? Both? He was just glad for now that the situation hadn't gotten too much out of hand. Still, questions that demanded answers ran across his mind; how did Etrius rip that soldier to pieces by pointing at him? What was with that light in his eyes? And lastly; How did Etrius know?

His slow, lagging footsteps were met by a much faster paced set of footsteps when Beecher's eyes connected with his. Their feelings matched- Rage. And, they knew they were sharing the same thought.

The General ignored him and continued down the steps. When Beecher made it to the top of the stairs, he stopped and stared in disbelief at the ghastly scene, and the bullet wound between Etrius' eyes that could only have been created by the General's pistol. The first word that struck his mind was: Traitor. He felt as if he were looking at the world through another's eyes, and an icy detachment settled over him like frost, and limited his words to a succinct.

Whizzing around, he shouted out, cold rage bubbling up in his voice and sharpening his tone, "Lloyd! Stop him!"

* * *

Dr. Romanov ran out of the tower and back to the stair pathway with the two soldiers. A slight guilt crept up behind him, but he ignored it when he realized that it was _their _choice to stay and get eaten alive. The cold stung his face, but he didn't stop, much less slowed down.

He indistinctly heard the soldiers shouting questions behind him, "Doc, what the hell's going on?!"

A distant reverberated bellow sounded from the skies, and he reeled his head up, viewing above him, "Look. It has begun." The soldiers turned to where he was looking. Two black, winged figures darted across the gray sky.

* * *

Beecher aimed his sniper at the betrayer from the top of the pyramid. Lloyd, having known what the General had done, unsheathed his sword aimed the tip at the General's heart, "Hold it!" Two soldiers at his left and right saw what he was going to do and aimed immediately raised their weapons at him.

The General's eyes roamed from the sword to Lloyd, "What do you think you're going to do?" He asked, not showing the slightest sign of fear, "Kill me? It's not what you think." Lloyd was able to hear his heartbeat in the solid silence.

The General's words, so distinct from his familiar voice, grinded against his ears, "Think about what you're doing."

Through the dead silence, Beecher could hear what the General was saying to him, trying to talk into Lloyd with his lies of persuasion, "Lloyd, don't listen to him!" Beecher felt the anger grip him. First, the General murdered his top soldier in cold blood, and now he was trying to slip out of it, without so much as a sinking expression of guilt.

"Sir?" One of the soldiers asked the General with a tone of uncertainty.

Lloyd's eyes fixed on the General's. Beecher kept his finger lightly placed on the trigger of his sniper, itching to press, aware of Etrius' limp body behind him.

A thick, stone barricade fell between one of the archways. Before any of the soldiers had time to react, barricades fell between all five archways. Lloyd and Beecher gave no reaction. Lloyd's heartbeat pounded faster, but he kept his eyes on the immoral traitor.

Without anyone noticing, glowing eyes opened up on the shadowed ceiling. One of them made a noise of pleasure and hunger as it looked down at its prey.

An Evil unsteadily walked out of the shadows with it's arms outstretched in front of it, stretching for it's food. It sneaked up behind a soldier and hurdled on him. The soldier screamed and the flash of teeth and glowing eyes was the last thing he saw.

Lloyd jolted at the sound and lowered his sword, looking around in confusion. Boomer gritted his teeth and looked up at the ceiling. Hundreds of Evils stared back at him. Fangs and glowing eyes occupied their faces. Their bodies were similar to humans, but more advanced, more humanoid, paler. The Evils let themselves fall and attack the soldiers.

The militias didn't hesitate in shooting at the Evils. One of them grabbed a soldier's neck from behind. The soldier grabbed it and flung it over his head. The body collapsed to the ground with a soundless thump over the loud noise of the Evils as they attacked freely. Another soldier beside him shot countless headshots. If they didn't get a headshot, the Evils would still animate. They couldn't live if they didn't have a working brain.

An Evil plopped down from the ceiling and began to attack Lloyd from behind. The General raised his pistol and delivered a headshot to it. Lloyd looked from the lifeless form to the General. Eyes unforgiving, he growled, "This isn't a very good time to screw around, Lloyd." He turned to Boomer and shouted, "Boomer! How many more explosives you have?" His order rang out in echoes.

More Evils were crashing their way inside through the walls and poured in.

Boomer jumped the rifle in his arms, "Enough to blast our way out." He gritted his teeth in a smile and fired headshots at the Evils. Somewhere in the back of his thoughts, he imagined Dimmu Borgir's soundtracks playing in the background. Regretting not taking his IPod with him, as it was his main source of adrenaline, he lodged bullets into Evil's brains.

"Move! Move! Move!" The General ordered to his men as he gestured them to the other side of the room.

* * *

At the top of the gray pyramid, Beecher kneed the ground and watched over Etrius' lifeless body._ Traitor; He's going to pay for what he's done! _But, then he wondered what happened up here in the first place. Despite all the other questions and concerns surrounding his thoughts, he wasn't going to let his best friend die like _this_.

* * *

Back in the action, more Evils poured in and chased the soldiers. A large crack started to form on the floor. It opened up five feet, revealing a thousand foot deep trench. Four transparent tentacles wormed their way out. They were invisible, but, noticeable each time they moved.

One of the tentacles shot forth and spiraled it's way through the mass of Evils and soldiers. It chopped a head off a soldier's shoulders and went for more. The body flopped lifeless to the ground, the rifle flying out of it's arms, and the blood stain was seen on the tentacle.

"RUN!" One of the soldiers screamed and they ran to the other side of the room.

* * *

Upstairs, Beecher stayed by Etrius' side. He tried placing a hand on his chest, but winced when he didn't get as much as a heartbeat. He just stared at the body, as if he expected it to burst back to life.

Etrius' body felt feverish and heat poured through his clothes, and Beecher's jaw tightened with venomous hatred towards the General, as he had made an immense, unjustifiable mistake. Even so, looking at Etrius' body pushed aside the seething rage, by a consuming mourn.

With a strange, horrific growl within his earshot, he whipped his head up and saw an Evil running his way on all fours. Dodging the attack by leaping into the air, he a dismissed bullet into it's brain.

His feet landed with an almost inaudible thud on the stone ground and he was met by fifty more Evils running up the stairs. He had no choice; he had to leave Etrius behind. He jumped up, and his foot hit an Evil's head. He jumped again, and his foot hit another's. He kept this up, jumping on Evil's heads as he quickly made his way down.

* * *

An Evil leaped on a soldier and he was pinned to the ground with a solid, crushing blow to his back. His rifle skidded into the shadows, and he swallowed down panic. Keeping his palms on the Evil's face, he tried to push it off, "Get the fuck away from me!" He hissed, sharply. His hard gaze fell on his knife. He unsheathed it and jabbed it deep into the back of the Evil's head. The Evil threw itself off him and tried, unsuccessfully to dislodge the knife, uttering ghastly snarls.

The soldier scrambled to his feet and removed the knife, only to stab it again into the side of the Evil's head. The blood that gushed on his arm felt cold. This time, the Evil slopped to the floor, first it's knees, then the rest of it's body.

Beecher made it down the stairs just in time as another Evil grabbed the soldier's arm. It twisted it, ready to sink it's teeth in. "My arm!" The soldier shouted in pain. Beecher aimed his sniper and fired. The Evil flipped over and fell, the blood flying out in thin lines.

Lloyd looked behind him as an Evil rushed out of the shadows and attacked him. He swiped his sword through it's body and sliced another's in half- from skull to toe, not really paying much attention to it's brain and internal organs that were now visible. He glanced up and was met by a mob of Evils running his way. His grip on the sword tightened and he ran fearlessly into the crowd, lashing out with it. The trail of his sword was noticeable in the air as he slashed, stabbed, and hacked his way through.

The General looked back at Boomer to see him preparing the c4 timer at the nearest closed door. He backed up when he saw Boomer running out of range. The timer hit zero and the explosion blasted the door open. The debris flew into a large trench, and light poured in from outside.

"Okay, let's get out of here!" The General exclaimed over his men. They all ran through the door without seeing what was on the other side.

Beecher ran as fast as his legs could move. He had to look down to make sure his feet didn't leave the ground. Everything around him was a blur, but he could see the trench as it rumbled and grew wider. This quickened his steps.

No. He wasn't going to stop. He needed to make it to the other side to get answers from the General.

Kicking his heels in the ground, he jumped. He saw the floor rush up to meet him as his feet hit solid ground. Boomer saw him make it, but where was Lloyd? They both looked back at the same time, and saw him skid to a stop on the other side of the trench. No way for him to make the jump.

Boomer and Beecher stared at him, mouths gaping, as Lloyd stood in front of the army of Evils behind him. They were forced to keep going when the ceiling was about to collapse. Boulders and rocks fell and they ran for the exit. They saw the General's silhouette against the light, kneeling on the ground and gesturing to them.

They jumped through the archway and landed on the ground, hunched over, gasping for air. Large stones fell and blocked the exit, trapping Lloyd and Etrius inside.

* * *

** Author's note~** **Ok, I literally upgraded each and every sentence, and I'm trying my best to make the thoughts of the characters more palpable, and enlarged, but I don't think it's working as much as I wanted it to :P **

** I'm also going to add flashbacks for each chapter that explains Etrius' retirement, and possibly flashbacks in the other chapters for Repercussions, explaining the past of the characters in each one, or their POV of the castle, or... **

**Well, plz review! It's free!**


	5. Chapter 4

**_ Lloyd and Etrius didn't stop; much less slow down with their running pace. Etrius wasn't sure what the feeling was that wavered over him, a feeling of relief, or anticipation when they saw the door with a sign on the wall that read _****Control Room****_._**

**_ Gesturing to Lloyd, Etrius kneeled down, keeping his weapons at shoulder-level. Neither of them had any idea what lied beyond that one, particular door. Despite the tension to barge into the room, they also had to keep their ears on high alert for any other guards that might storm down a random hallway._**

**_ Etrius turned to Lloyd, and he nodded. In a blur, he thrust his boot against the door, throwing it off it's hinges. The first thing they noticed was a technologist hunching over a large computer surrounded by a mass of wires. A countdown was being issued on the screen. The countdown for the bomb._**

**_ "On the floor!" Lloyd said as soon as he saw the technician._**

**_ The technologist whipped around at the sound at the sound of the door being thrust open, and Lloyd's instant commands, and immediately shrieked, "How did you find this place?!"_**

**_ Etrius reloaded his pistol in a threatening posture, "_****Now****_."_**

**_ The technologist jerked at the sound of the weapon, and immediately got on the floor, throwing his hands over the back of his head. Etrius eyed the computer, and saw that they only had a minute left to disarm it. Turning to Lloyd, he said, "Keep him busy. I'm going to see if I can deactivate the bomb." Tossing Lloyd one of his pistols, Etrius immediately ran to the computer, instantly cutting wires and hacking through passcodes._**

**_ As Etrius glitched the last passcode, he realized that something was wrong. The countdown was still progressing!_**

**_ Thirty seconds._**

**_ Etrius rapidly ran through the passcodes once more, making sure he didn't miss anything, but he had done everything. The realization hit Etrius before he could comprehend what was going on._**

**_ "Lloyd?" Etrius said with a tone of panicky hesitance, as a heavy weight rolled in his stomach._**

**_ Lloyd and his confusion eyed him._**

**_ "The processer's a decoy."_**

**_ Instantly, Lloyd and Etrius turned to the technologist, who smiled and deciphered their expressions, "That computer's not the key to unlocking the way to stop the bomb."_**

**_ Etrius grabbed the man by his shirt collar and brutally flung him against the computer, not caring if the processor or the scientist's spine broke first. He should've _****known****_ something was going to go wrong. The sign on the door that read _****Control Room ****_was too much of a giveaway. _**

**_ Twenty seconds._**

**_ Lloyd held his sword closer to the technologist's throat, slicing a thin line of blood across, with an expression of deadly hostile, "Where's the real one?"_**

**_ The technician smirked, "Believe me, you're nowhere _****near****_ the real computer to disarm the bomb in ten seconds." As he said it, Etrius glanced at the computer, and his heart leaped up in his throat. "WHERE?!" He warned again, more harshness threading his words._**

**_ The scientist's expression didn't falter, "I can't tell you; 'Boss doesn't want anyone to know. He didn't want to risk anything, so he stayed silent, and didn't tell anyone where the real bomb is."_**

**_ "Then, you're pretty much useless to us." Etrius locked his aim at the technologist's head and fired._**

**_ As the body fell to the floor, Etrius eyed Lloyd, then the computer. Detonation._**

**_ Etrius felt the explosion before he heard it. Ceiling crumbs fell from above them as the bomb set off. Lloyd had to grab the doorframe to stop himself from falling over, and Etrius gripped the large computer to get a hold of something solid in a world that spun._**

**_ The ringing still lingered in Etrius' ears, and the shaking sensation didn't leave his legs, making him unsure if the bomb was still going off, or not. A feeling of dread settled over him like a shadow of despair with a synthesis of darkness. He'd… Failed._**

**_ "Oh, my God." Lloyd's words caught his attention, "Boomer and Beecher! They were looking for the hostages; Are they okay?"_**

**_ Etrius felt the strain siding with the dread, and he immediately clasped his radio, "Boomer, Beecher, do you copy?"_**

**_ Static answered him._**

**_ Etrius felt the cold fingers of anxiety grip his throat, "Boomer! Beecher! Copy!"_**

**_ Once he was greeted with silence, he sighed and lowered his head. How could he let this have happened? He squeezed his eyes shut, and clenched his teeth in disgrace. He failed. _****Failed.**

**_ "-oyd, Etri-, - copy." Beecher's voice sounded through the radio as soon as it cracked to life. The detonation of the bomb blocked most of their radio's signal, making it difficult to comprehend what they were trying to say, but they could still converse. _**

**_ Etrius' heart would've soared by then, but he still felt the dismay intoxicating him, "Are you guys alright? Where's Boomer?" He was speaking so fast, he had trouble processing his own words._**

**_ "-e're –ine. The –ast –ocked o- -ignal." Beecher's vague words seemed to sound as clear as glass to Etrius._**

**_ Etrius said to Lloyd, "They're fine. The blast blocked their signal."_**

**_ "What about the hostages?" Lloyd asked before Etrius repeated the question to Beecher._**

**_ Beecher greeted him with silence, and Etrius didn't need him to say anything for him to get his answer._**

* * *

A large, thin, stone bridge stretched from the altar room and connected to another tower ahead, and the rumbling from the fallen boulders that blocked the exit still lingered in the air, and it echoed off the tower, and died away in the distance. A heavy grey mist blocked anyone from seeing ten feet ahead of them. The soldiers leaned on their knees, panting, and gasping for air.

The General, having recovered from exhaustion, stood up and started walking, "We have to keep moving," One of the soldiers stared at him in disbelief through his visor, wishing he would've had the ability to recover as quickly.

"We can't stay here. Come on, let's go." He ordered again, realizing that everyone was just staring at him.

"What about Lloyd and Etrius? They're still in there." Beecher asked, gesturing back at the tower. His voice was low with fatigue, but his eyes burned with wrath, and they seemed to cut through all the mist, and scorch straight into the General's. The General froze and looked back at him with a sharp expression, as if disbelieving what Beecher had just said, "Don't tell me, you want to go back in there again, and get eaten alive," He glanced down at the orb in his hands and then at the cold stone floor, "Lloyd's gotten himself out of tricky situations before… So, he shouldn't have a problem with this one."

Beecher eyed him with an unforgiving, dull face, and spat bluntly, icy abhorrence dripping from his every word, "And, Etrius?" His piercing eyes seemed to absorb all light, but reflect none.

The General ignored him, obviously aware of Beecher's knowledge of what he'd done, but now wasn't the time. When Beecher didn't protest, the General changed the subject. He announced, "There's a courtyard northwest of here. The helicopters have already made their way there, and they're waiting for us."

"Come on," He ordered to his men once more to get their asses moving, "We can get to them in time if we hurry." The soldiers reluctantly stood up and followed the General as they walked in solemn silence to the next tower, not wanting to argue.

Beecher's clutch on the sniper tensed and he stared at the General's back. Rage burned inside his chest and threatened to explode its way up his throat and shout in anger. _He killed Etrius, and left Lloyd behind, and he's going to pay, one way or another._ His thoughts hesitated for a moment, _Wait, no. First, answers, then punishment._ His eyes wandered back to the surviving soldiers that followed them, _Just… Not here._

Boomer looked at him with a hard face that leaked confusion. His appearance screamed the question, _What was that all about?_

Beecher ignored him. He decided to tell him later about what the General did to Etrius. Or, would he know already?

Beecher eyed the power source that was clasped in the General's hand. His mind wandered back into the Altar room, when he thought he had heard Etrius screaming that he lied to all of us. _Lied to all of us…_ He pondered these words, as they felt like they were lingering in the air around him. Then, a revolting, roguish, and deceiving thought lodged into his mind, and ice-cold apprehension plunged inside of him. _Did the General want the power all for himself? Does he really have _any_ intentions in saving Earth at all? _Knowing Etrius, it could be true.

One of the soldier's scream from behind carried him back to reality. Everyone looked back. A Flying Evil swooped down and snatched up one of the soldiers. A fleet view of him thrashing and flailing his arms and legs lasted for a second before he was gone into the gray, hazy sky.

Flying Evils were dark, winged creatures with an extreme appetite for humans. Their bodies were shaped like lizards, but their leathery skin was pure black. Their eyes glow an unearthly, incandescing white color, stating that they were definitely _not_ on their side.

Two more Flying Evils zipped through the skies toward the bridge, and, the soldiers aimed their rifles in alarm and instantly shot innumerable rounds at them, but they were too fast. The bullets kept missing.

One of the soldiers shouted out in warning as one of them flew inches past his head. He stumbled back and yelped in surprise, falling to the floor on his back. Rolling over on his stomach, and looking up, he saw four Evils jumping down from the tower's chipped roof. They landed inflexibly on the bridge which enforced him to scramble to his feet.

The Evils ran towards him, and he screamed as he opened fire.

One bullet hit a brain, the other hit a shoulder. The third missed. The Evil leaped into the air and tackled the soldier to the ground, hearing the _smack_ of his helmet against stone, blood staining his teeth. Boomer grabbed the Evil from behind and threw it into the air. Another flying Evil caught it in its claws and flew off, it's wings vaulting the air, and out of sight.

Bon Appétit.

The soldier ran off, and the fourth Evil sprang up behind him, but Boomer had other plans than to get beaten. He whirled around, grabbed the Evil's arms and the body twisted. The Evil was knocked out cold from the abrupt pain.

Boomer glanced up and saw a soldier shoot down a Flying Evil. The blood sprayed out from the wound in it's vertebrae, and wings, and it fell on the thin bridge. The brittle stone trembled on impact. It straightened his neck and flapped it's wings, only to have ascended a few feet before falling back down.

The General noticed small cracks that were quickly growing in size were beginning to form on the floor from the creature's struggling, and no one else was noticing. He shouted out when he saw the soldiers aim again to finish it, "Seize fire!"

The Flying Evil's tail lashed out and threw a soldier over the bridge. He tumbled into the darkness, his screams plummeting down with him. Another soldier swore and others fearfully fired bullets into the creature as it started to rise again.

"Don't kill it!" The General yelled, "No!" The Flying Evil fell back down and the bridge collapsed.

Boomer found himself on one side of the bridge, and Beecher, the General, and the others to the opposite side of him. Willingly, he tried to run towards them to avoid having the bridge give away under his feet, but the gap created by the creature was too wide for him to make the jump. The bridge's state was getting worse.

Turning away, he ran to the other side of the bridge where three others soldiers were. Feeling the floor begin to crumble under his weight, he kneeled on a large piece of the bridge and they fell.

Beecher, the General, and the others, who were now on the opposite side of the bridge, ran to the other tower that was open. Another soldier started to fall under the collapsing bridge, but the General caught him a split second before it was too late. He dragged him into the archway with the rest of the soldiers, and pushed him back onto his feet, as they gasped for air.

Beecher, despite being out of breathe looked around for his only surviving teammate. When he didn't see Boomer, his heart dropped to its lowest level and he knew he lost another comrade. All liability pointed towards the General, and he grated his teeth in ire. A voice of fury and vengeance screamed in his head. Things had only gotten worse, and the General was to blame for it. He, and his retarted "Saving Mankind." Any remaining acceptance for the General seemed to shatter into a million pieces.

The rumbling of the collapse still lingered in the air.

The General looked out over where the bridge used to be, making sure they didn't leave them behind if they were still alive. When he saw that they were gone, he turned around and kept going, signaling the others to follow him.

Beecher remained where he was standing, staring down into the deathly trench, as if he expected to have someone push him and fall in. He shook his head to dislodge the worst thoughts, not allowing them to form.

No, this was _Boomer_ he was thinking about. He could survive, right? The horrid thoughts gave a second attempt at forming, just by him looking at the depth of the fall.

Turning his head, he saw the others had gotten a massive head start ahead of him. Reluctantly, but forcibly, he pushed himself to follow.

* * *

Hundreds of feet from where the bridge fell, Boomer hung onto a ledge that stuck out of the wall. The three surviving soldiers dangled at his feet. His dirty blonde hair blew back in the wind and he kept his head bowed, teeth clenched in determination and a hard expression plastered across his face as purple dots danced across his vision. He looked down at the soldiers that hung onto him for their lives.

Looking above him, he realized they couldn't risk being attacked by any more Evils if they climbed back up to the bridge. The General and the others had made it to the tower opposite of theirs, so risking a jump definitely _wasn't_ a willing option. Glancing below him, climbing down seemed to be the only route for survival.

Noticing more ledges below him, he swung his feet, let the soldiers fall, and catch the sills. With a dangerous smile, he announced, "Okay guys, we're going to have to climb," He started climbing down, and noticed their hesitation, "Move it!"

The others, looking at each other in vagueness, unwillingly followed.

* * *

Dr. Romanov and the two other soldiers ran to the chopper nearest to them. They hadn't been attacked by any Evils on their way back, but still, they ran in frenzy. They also hadn't seen the General, the Elite Team, or any of the others following them. Even so, they had to keep going if they wanted to stay alive.

One of the two soldiers eyed his comrade with a confusion-drenched expression behind his helmet and visor, "Why are we doing this, again?"

"We were told not to let him go off by himself," He replied, replacing his puzzled appearance with mystified words, "Whatever he's doing, it had better be good. I don't want trouble with the General when he finds out that we left for no reason."

"Pilot," Dr. Romanov grunted as he climbed in the chopper, his voice erupting with urgency, "Quickly, you have to take us out of here!"

The pilot stared at him in muddle when he first stepped inside the copter and stammered, "But, wait. What about… Shouldn't we wait for the others? Uh, the General-"

Dr. Romanov cut him off short, "Trust me, you won't understand before it's too late."

The two other soldiers climbed in after him, and they all immediately fired questions at him, "Romanov, what the fuck is this about?" "What's going on?" "What the hell are you doing?"

Dr. Romanov felt the cold fingers of rage slide up the back of his neck, and threatening to crush it if they didn't get going, "Do you want to waste the last minutes of your life in a courtyard, or do you want to live?"

One of the soldiers sighed in frustration. He didn't know what this was about, but he just let go and came to a decision. If the scientist said they needed to leave now, and he was the only one capable of reading the language on the Altar Room's walls, then why _shouldn't_ they listen to him? He said, "Pilot, let's just go."

* * *

The General, Beecher, and the surviving soldiers ran through the corridor that led to the courtyard. Although the corridor was utterly vacant, a seething tension seemed to circulate the gray, bleak walls. Beecher still hadn't taken his eyes off the General. He was still holding the power source tightly, as if he were afraid it would drain through his fingers like sand. Beecher wanted to snatch it out of his hand, beat his face down with it, and blow his brains out with his sniper. The trigger was right at his fingertips, and the General was running inches away from him. Just one gunshot…

When disaster seemed positive, an Evolved Evil crashed through the wall and hurdled itself on top of one of the Privates. Even so, Beecher, nor the General didn't do as much as stop.

Evolved Evils look much like normal Evils, but taller, and more muscular. Just one of them could defeat ten soldiers easily in less than three seconds without so much as wasting a breath.

The others turned around and opened fire at it. The Evolved Evil violently flung the Private against the wall before it was shot repeatedly in his back and head. It fell and the light in hit's eyes literally faded.

Two more Evolved Evils darted down from the ceiling. "Run!" screamed one of the soldiers. They all whizzed around and continued to run at top speed, leaving the unconscious Private behind, whether they liked it or not. One of the soldiers risked a glance back, and swallowed down panic when he saw the Evolved Evils chasing them on all fours.

Beecher peered down the hallway, looking for an end. Darkness consumed what was ahead, and he couldn't see farther than fifty feet, and the Evolved Evils were rapidly catching up to them. Everything around him seemed to be a blur, except for the gray walls on either side of him. The color was so plain, Beecher felt like he was running and not going anywhere. He kept his eyes on his feet.

Usually, when he found himself in situation similar to this, he would just stop and allow death to come right in. Who cared about death? Life was a waste of time. Even so, he felt as if he couldn't- no, _wouldn't-_ die. The General had murdered his top soldier, and if he thought that he was going to get away with this, he'd better watch his back when they returned. _If_ they returned.

Finally, he noticed an archway, but a barricade was slowly descending to block it. If they didn't make it in time…

Beecher eyed the General once more, and this time, the General eyed him back. They were sharing the same thought. Their cold stares ruptured with the need for survival.

The soldiers made it passed the archway, the last of them tucking into a ball, and rolling under the sinking barricade.

One of the soldiers stared at the last one that made it as he rose to his feet and stared back at him, his head slightly tilted to the left. The soldier asked him if he was alright, but he didn't get an answer. Something was wrong with him.

He jerked and gasped when his left arm unexpectedly fell off with ease, the blood spraying out. The rest of his limbs followed and the body fell lifeless to the ground.

The living soldier felt something cold wrap around his ankles and he was thrown headfirst onto a stalactite before he could realize one of the transparent tentacles followed them into the room.

The General looked back as he was running up a flight of stairs with Beecher and the others, clenching the power source tighter in his firm grip, but being careful not to break it. A small crack had been formed on it when Etrius dropped it, but it was still durable. They ran through an open archway which connected into a spiral staircase. The staircase soared up to the courtyard.

"Hurry up!" The General shouted down to the others who were far behind, "We're not dead yet!"

* * *

The chopper slowly ascended into the air and Dr. Romanov stared out the window, wishing time would hurry it's ass up. The evil castle stared back. Outside, one of the pilots climbed out of their chopper, and looked up at the retiring chopper in confusion.

Soon, Dr. Romanov sighed and slumped on a seat when the helicopter made it away. He eyed the pilot as he glanced back and asked the doc what happened, and why they were leaving the General and the others behind, and so early.

Dr. Romanov clutched the book tighter in his arms and explained, remaining fear winding his voice.

* * *

The spiral staircase circled a shed of light that fell from an opening above, which looked down to the last floor. Beecher could get a clear view of the Evils that were rapidly increasing in numbers, and making it almost impossible to outrun. A soldier ducked as a tentacle darted towards him. He jumped as another flew at his feet. A third slammed into his back and he was thrown to the exit. He landed outside, and lay, back sprawled on the stone ground. Scrambling to his feet, he saw the choppers waiting for them.

The General, Beecher, and the remaining soldiers ascended the last of the spiral staircase, and spilled out into the courtyard. "Don't just stand there! Get the goddamn, mother fucking engines running!" The General shrieked in alarm, defining the urgency of the situation. The pilots jerked around, suddenly forgetting what they had to do.

More Evils jumped down from the towers' roofs, and chased the soldiers. Beecher whirled around and opened fire. He glanced behind him and saw the General firing rounds at the Evils, buying time for the pilots to start the choppers. They looked further out and noticed the seemingly endless silhouette of Evils, charging across the courtyard grounds. They were far from outnumbered.

The General turned around and instructed quickly, not wanting to waste any more time, "You three, spread out in the choppers! You guys," he looked at Beecher and two other soldiers, "Come with me." They loaded in the helicopter nearest to them, not even risking a second's glance back at the others loading into the copters on either side of the courtyard.

"Get this shit in the air, goddamn it." The General ordered with a cold edge in his tone. He suddenly forgot the pilots needed to be ordered to take off. Picking up a radio that connected to all the choppers he said, "This is the General speaking," He looked out at the Evils that were flooding the courtyard, "All choppers are being ordered to lift off."

The General and Beecher's chopper ascended into the air only fifteen feet, when two Evils leaped on. The General picked up his pistol and delivered a headshot to the first one. The second jumped to attack, but he blew it's brains out. The dead Evil tumbled down and hit the window of another chopper below. The glass cracked on the sudden impact, but the chopper remained in-flight.

One of the soldiers looked out from the chopper, rifle ready in his arms, and curved his attention up above him.

A Flying Evil darted straight into a chopper, and blood splattered on the side of it, causing it to veer off steadiness.

"Oh, shit." He whispered.

The chopper spiraled to the ground, smoke rising from the engine, debris flying out. The soldier saw the flash before the outburst as the helicopter exploded on impact. He looked back at the tail of the chopper he was on. Three Evils jumped on.

He raised his rifle to shoot them off, but another Evil catapulted itself on him. They both fell on the floor.

The pilot looked back, wanting to help, but he had to steer the chopper out of there himself without an autopilot, and ignore the searing remorse.

The Evil jumped back into a standing position and lunged at the soldier, but he landed a punch on its lower jaw. It staggered back, and dove again. The soldier thrust his fist out, but the Evil dipped down, and dodged the attack. The Evil's cold hands visited his throat. He clawed at its face, opening his mouth, gasping for air, which never came. More and more Evils jumped on the chopper.

It swerved off balance from the weight, and tumbled to the ground.

Beecher and the General watched as the chopper fell. Beecher raised his sniper and fired a head shot into one of the Evil's brain. He aimed at another, but rendered it useless when he saw the numbers if Evils clawing at the chopper.

And the General's pistol would do nothing to them at that far of a distance. They watched restlessly as the helicopter crashed. The General eyed the power source with a relieved, but cold glare. _Mission Accomplished._


	6. Chapter 5

_ "You could've stopped it!" The General yelled in anger at the top of his lungs, "You _allowed_ them to outsmart you!"_

_ The Elite Team stood in the center of the General's office, throwing off glaring looks from the outside, but they knew their true feeling was drunk with regret._

_ "They've outmaneuvered the entire military for _years_, now. What do you expect?" Beecher bounced back, cold rage outlining his words._

_ "I expected you to stop them!" The General growled between his teeth._

_ Boomer's right hand curled up into a fist, and he stepped forward, "_Listen_!" He hissed._

_ The General shot him a cold glare that could make anyone scream in fear. Boomer returned a menacing glower just as powerful, "We already know where their leader is right now, and we could catch him if we just-"_

_ "Just, what?! You failed the one task that hundreds of people trusted you with!" The General yelled back, cutting Boomer off of anything else he had to say, "How can we trust you again, if we all know you'll just fail?!"_

_ "You don't know that!" Etrius shouted with ire encouraging his intense tone to sharpen._

_ They could almost feel the curious ears outside the door listening in to the loud discussion._

_ The General-not wanting to hear another word- lowered his eyelids to keep himself from grabbing his pistol and shooting in cold blood, and pointed at the door, "Get out of my office." The corroded ferocity was still lingering in his voice, but he had managed to lower it._

* * *

_ Etrius sat, sulking on the floor, suddenly finding it more comfortable than the bed, inside his private abode in the military base. Although he was alone, he could feel hundreds of disgraced eyes around the world glaring ominously at him. _

_ Although the rest of the elite team had been reassured over the next few hours, Etrius couldn't shake the deep, abiding ferocity off him. The General's words still rang in his head, so much like a screaming alarm clock._

_ He allowed them to outsmart him. He expected him to stop them. He failed the one task that hundreds of people hundreds of people trusted him with. How can he trust him once more, if he thinks he's going to fail again?_

_ Sighing at the grief and regret that seemed to hang over him like a dark cloud, he got up shakily, and dragged open his drawer, finding his hidden lighter and cigars. He flicked the lighter twice before it produced a flame._

_The flames licked the cigar, and Etrius inhaled, devouring the flavor ravenously. He hated it when people tell him that cigars were bad for his health; give him lung cancer, blah, blah, blah. Smoking seemed to be the only cure for strain that never seemed to fade. _

_ He plucked it from his lips when he saw it to be empty before he even knew. Grumbling, he flicked it aside, and resisted the urge to retrieve another._

_ Three solid raps that seemed to shatter the silence brought his attention to the door._

_ Hesitantly, he walked to the door, each heavy step becoming denser, and his eyes vacant from the anguish. _

_ His hand froze inches away from the knob. _Wait, who's even behind that door?

_ Fighting the hesitance and tension, he forced his hand to move, and he pulled the knob, the door creaking seemed to grind against his ears._

_ Etrius frowned in confusion at who stood on the other side._

_ Beecher rushed in, and immediately requested Etrius to close the damn door. Finding the situation to be important, Etrius quickly blogged out the heavy light that poured in, and turned to Beecher, "Something I should know?"_

* * *

Beecher restlessly paced back and forth in the small, isolation cell, like he had been doing so for years.

Every once in a while, he would glance up at the ceiling, where he could see the security camera, and the General watching his every move. The General saw him glancing up at the camera, and stated, "You can't escape here, Beecher. This cell is designed to hold even the smartest of criminals in the world."

Although the General's words were transmitted through a microphone in the camera, Beecher felt as if he was standing right next to him.

Muttering swears under his breath, he deliberately kicked the steel white wall, not so much as creating a dent or crack, but it didn't seem to relieve the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Keeping himself buried in thoughts, searching frantically for an idea to escape, or anything to reveal who the General really was, he gritted his teeth, and slumped against the wall.

His eyes scanned the bleak cell, but all they caught were windowless walls, a bed, and a door locked from the outside, with no knob on the inside.

All hatred and anguish were suddenly consumed by a seething ache and grieve, when he suddenly remembered Etrius, Lloyd, and Boomer.

Lloyd. He didn't know if he was still alive, or not. But what he _did_ know was that if he was, he wasn't going to last much longer.

Etrius. The General killed him in cold blood. He knew he couldn't trust the General over particular reasons, but this passed the limits.

Boomer. That fall looked pretty fatal, and three other soldiers did fall with him. Even if they all survived, they probably could never make it out of there alive.

All the dreads and apprehensions that were tied together were now bound to one only hope of their escape- the only crashed chopper that looked like it could still be capable of flight. If they could survive the castle on their way to the courtyard, then that one chopper could be their only ray of hope for survival. But, still, the idea seemed so bleak, so doubtful, he couldn't help but think if the pilot even survived the crash, and none of the other even knew how to pilot an aircraft.

To make the situation even worse, Beecher fused himself with the thought that he would have to wait months-maybe even years-until he could savor the addictive flavor of a cigar…

Glancing back up at the camera, he said, "How long do I have to stay in here, exactly?" He hated every word he pointed at the General, but he had to know exactly how much longer he had to remain in isolation. One day trapped in that hell-hole seemed like one year.

"You can leave, once I tell you, you can leave." The General's voice sounded through the mic. Once again, spoken so practical. So superior.

"Oh, yeah, which is going to be like, what? Never?"

He could almost hear the General leering behind the mic.

Removing himself from his back-leaning position, he slumped on the bed, but was unable to beckon sleep, as the bright lights in the room poured through his eyelids when he closed them. Throwing a pillow over his head, he summoned the memories to haunt him.

* * *

"Seriously, I don't know how much longer I can last." One of the soldiers grumbled with a rough edge in his tone. Boomer recognized him instantly as the Sergeant, Mullins.

"Serge, if I hear another word out of you-" Boomer started before Mullins cut him off, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Mullins felt like taking the darkness to his advantage and give Boomer a stiff middle finger, but he had to keep both his hands planted on the stone wall, and keep climbing down.

Boomer really couldn't blame him. They'd been climbing down for what seemed to be _hours_. Darkness shrouded his vision, so he couldn't see anything five feet ahead of him. He had to squint to see his own hands. The ice-cold stone wall numbed his fingertips, but even so, he kept descending.

Another one of the privates' voice sounded from below him, "I have to agree with the Sergeant. I feel like my arms are going to be torn from their sockets. A few more minutes of this torment and-" A slipping, crumbling noise made everyone stop in their tracks.

"Private?" Boomer's voice crawled through the darkness.

Silence greeted him.

Boomer was going to call out again, before the Private's voice swirled through the shadows, "Never mind."

In the dark, Boomer's teeth gleamed with a violent smile of relief. They'd arrived to solid ground. Boomer lessened his grip and let himself fall.

The sound of his feet hitting the stone floor gave the others inspiration to copy.

The corridor the surviving soldiers climbed down into was clogged with even more obscurity. Realizing that they needed light, they clicked on their flashlights, and the first image they saw was a dead soldier that fell from the bridge, lying lifelessly in a pool of blood.

"Holy shit." One of the soldiers swore, his words echoing far out in the distance.

Boomer stared blankly at the sight, having been used to seeing scenes similar to this, and then surveyed his surroundings. The dead silence allowed their ears to hear their heartbeats.

One of the soldiers got up from his kneeling position, and turned to Boomer, "Boomer, what are our orders?" Boomer heard his voice echoing through the chambers. The echoes were replaced by a deep, rumbling, growling sound that seemed to vibrate in the shadows.

* * *

**Oooh, chapter 5! :) I was actually listening to certain music while writing this chapter.**

**Link's here: watch?v=0r7HuwOPGPA**

**This one too: watch?v=LFZSDfkvHaA**

**Plz, review, it's free, but batteries not included :3 Yes, I know, it's short, but the next chapter is going to be longer, promise.**

**I'm actually also thinking of writing a new story (Still gonna be working on this one), I want to try out how I can write with romance, and drama, but I'm not entirely sure L-L**

**Reaver938 and I are actually going to combine some of our ideas for each of our novelizations, so they both won't feel as confusing, and such :)**

**thx for reading, and look out for upcomming chapters!**


	7. Chapter 6

_Beecher seemed to be pushed on by an invisible force as he rapidly strolled around the room while he spoke, "I just spoke with the General a couple of hours ago about the mission-"_

_ Etrius leered in disgust, and swiftly cut him off, "Don't even talk about the mission." He was a bit shocked when Beecher said, _a couple of hours ago_. He wasn't even paying attention to how much time passed since his last visit with his team in the General's office._

_ Beecher ignored him, and continued on. The details on his face told Etrius that it was something worth hearing, but Etrius didn't buy it._

_ "We thought before that when we found the leader of the terrorist union, we were supposed to kill him on sight." Beecher went on._

_ Etrius let out a huff of breath in annoyance at the subject, and slumped on the dismantled bed._

_ "They want us to take him in alive."_

_ Etrius felt his blood freeze. Beecher's words sounded so vague, yet so rampant, he couldn't help but stare at him._

_ Finding only three words willing to be spoken, he said, "You're shitting me."_

_ Beecher solemnly shook his head._

_ Now, Etrius hoisted up, obviously even more pissed than he already was. The leader of the terrorist union-the one who murdered millions of people in cold blooded malice-and they wanted him alive. After everything he did, they couldn't afford him escaping prison, just to go out and do it all over again. He had to be executed, and straightway._

_ "Why the fuck would they want him to be taken in _alive_? We can't risk him living, and harming others!" Etrius shouted, but not loud enough for anyone outside to hear._

_ Beecher folded his arms in aggravation, "You know we're not supposed to ask questions about those kind of matters. _Especially_ those."_

_ Etrius' right hand curled up into a fist, "Thanks for lightening the mood."_

_ Beecher didn't respond. Although truly, he partially regretted telling Etrius this kind of news, particularly now, since he really needed more than a few hours to cool off. Attempting to change the subject with something more promising, Beecher said, "I was speaking with Lloyd and Boomer."_

_ Etrius glared at him with a face that said: _Why should I care?

_ "Trust me; they don't think it's reasonable, either. Here's what we're going to do…" Beecher said each word slowly, as if afraid that picking the wrong one, it would shatter the rest, "The entire force already knows where the leader is hiding. The General is planning to infiltrate the building tomorrow morning, but the Elite Team's agreed to go tonight, and keep it an absolute secrecy."_

_ Etrius didn't need to tell Beecher anything for him to know he wanted to hear more._

_ Beecher continued, "We can sneak into the real terrorist facility, find which room the leader is hiding in." A pause, "And shoot him ourselves."_

_ Etrius replayed every word Beecher had told him. Were they really going to do that? Sneaking out of their facility and into the terrorist's was a piece of cake, but was his team _really_ willing to do this?_

_ Etrius was unable to stop the revengeful grin slowly performing on his face._

* * *

A tab at the bottom of the bullet proof door flipped open, and a food tray was pushed through. Beecher sneered at the containers of prison food and an unforgiving hatred vibrated under his skin with foreign, white heat.

In some room in the entire facility, Beecher knew the General was still watching him through the camera. But why was he still there? What good did the General deserve to lock Beecher up, to silence him?

What _really_ happened at the top of the altar?

Somewhere, hidden in his abiding anger, he knew the General wouldn't just kill one of his soldiers. There had to be a reason behind it- but, _what_?

With a desperate need to shake the venomous hatred and questions off him, he abruptly sauntered to the camera and mic, and said, "What the fuck happened in the altar room?"

Nothing but silence kept him company, but Beecher knew the General was listening.

Beecher slammed his fist against the wall, in hopes of getting his attention, "Bastard, _answer me_!"

Again, stillness closed around the room, suffocating the air around him. Within each second that ticked by, extra anger swelled up inside of him.

Then the General spoke, "Soldier, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Well, as if _that_ made things any better.

Beecher made a noise that was torn between a laugh and a groan, "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

Beecher knew the General's face was hardening, and he scarcely heard a small sigh of recognition. Beecher couldn't help but think that he deserved to know what happened at the altar.

He said, "I know something happened up there before you shot him." Something that left him with no choice but to pull the trigger.

Inside the camera room, the General was hunched over the table, behind the mass of wires and computers, and darkness surrounded him, but he wasn't paying much attention to Beecher at all. Instead, his mind was replaying the scene of the altar "incident".

Everything Etrius had said-how could he know? And why so suddenly? If he knew all this time the General had been hiding secrets-crucial secrets-why had he waited to proclaim them?

Come to think of it, Etrius seemed to be paralyzed by shock once he picked up the artifact.

He knew Beecher acknowledged his silence, "Asshole, why won't you answer me?"

The General decided not to answer him, and stay strewn in his thoughts.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU LIED TO ALL OF US!" Beecher paused. He sounded _exactly_ like Etrius.

Before the General could reply, the door swung open, and a private filled the doorway.

"Sir?"

The General muted the volume, blocking out Beecher's demanding words, "Problem?"

The soldier seemed hesitant at first, but then summoned the courage to speak, "It's Dr. Romanov, Sir. He needs to see you-immediately. He says it's important."

The General sighed, glancing back at the computer screen. He saw a glimpse of Beecher swearing and screaming at him through a muted mic. He turned away.

The private had left, but the General still sensed a presence near him, making him feel like he wasn't alone. He never was.

* * *

Private John Ray Williams slowly floated back up to consciousness. Every inch of his body was concealed in exhaustion, and he was too tired to even open his eyes. The stone floor felt cold where he was lying, and he lay sprawled on his stomach as he tried to remember what happened, but it wouldn't come back to him. The memories seemed blurry and unreachable, slithering from his grip like wisps of smoke, leaving behind a vacant, endless hole.

Underneath the agony, he wanted to scream, but a mere groan was all that escaped him.

Seconds stretched into minutes, and finally, he opened his eyes, which felt like heavy weights. The first thing he noticed while his eyes adjusted was a muscular alternate-dimensional creature staring at his face.

He sucked in a deep breath and stood upright. He noticed the creature was dead, lying in a pool of blood and bullets holed it's head and back. The glowing in it's eyes were gone.

He felt the gust of memories swarming back to him. He remembered running in frenzy through the corridors with the General, and the others, being chased by the two massive creatures.

Ray tried to get his breathing and heartbeat back to normal as he scanned his surroundings. He remembered the castle project he was assigned. He was still in the corridor where the General and the others were running from the Evolved Evils, alone.

Where were the others? Why did they leave him behind?

The blank grey walls seemed to stare at him with interest.

Ray felt an uneasy feeling crawl up in his swimming stomach. He lurched forward and threw up beside him, wincing at the green muck. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and hoisted up in a standing position.

Looking down at his feet, he saw his rifle lying on the floor. He bent over, picked it up, and gripped it tightly in his arms.

Ray looked both his left and right, and remembered which way the General was leading them. _Northwest._

How much time passed since he was knocked out? He didn't know. The horrible thought entered his mind that the General and the others have already left. He immediately checked his radio to signal the others where they were. He realized it was broken. He sighed and walked forward, his breathing was still heavy from dread, but he ignored it.

A small light poured out from one end of the hallway from the doorway that led to the broken bridge, so he knew better than to go back there.

The other end of the hallway was consumed by darkness, and seemed uninviting enough, but he knew he couldn't just stay there. He had to get to the courtyard, and hopefully, find an awaiting chopper.

Reaching the door, panic jumped in his chest.

It was barricaded shut.

"No." He murmured as he dropped his rifle and banged his fists on the door. Each time his fist slammed into the stone, he felt his strength and confidence grow weaker, with each passing moment.

When he knew that no hope was on the other side, he slumped against the door and slid down until he hit the floor, breathless, once again. Bleakness and isolation plummeted inside of him, realizing that death was knocking loudly.

A sudden image of the bridge collapse replayed itself in his mind. _The bridge is broken._

The barricade felt colder than anything else as he leaned against the door._ The door is shut. Think, Ray, think. There's got to be another way out of here._ A flash image of himself, and an alarming sensation banged in his mind.

After it faded he heard the same voice he'd heard in the Altar Room, "**How much suffering Mortal, does it take, before you lose your grace?**"

Ray's eyes rapidly scanned the corridor, but he saw no one. What was that? A bloodcurdling being toying with his mind, or hallucinations created by the power of his fear?

Too petrified to move, he shouted, "Who's there?" His voice echoed out in the distance. Instead of getting a response, the chambers reverberated with a dull, rigorous growl, "Show yourself!" The corridor grew quiet.

Ray didn't realize he was holding his breath. He let it out shakily and stood up. He only walked a few feet when a fleet image of Freaky Lloyd slammed into his thoughts.

He fell on his back, scrambled to his feet, and ran back the way he came.

A wave of adrenaline suddenly rippled through him, and his pace quickened. His feet thudded against the ground as he ran, and the noise echoed off the stone walls, making him feel more as if he weren't alone.

By the time Ray reached the dead, muscular Freak, he was breathless, but he was too overwhelmed with panic to care.

Still, he felt that something was missing. He looked back at the end of the hallway and noticed he left his weapon behind, _Ah, fuck. My rifle!_ He was definitely _not_ going back for that.

Looking down, his thoughts altered, _oh, pistol. Still got my pistol._ He pulled out his pistol and reloaded. A hissing, growling noise brought his attention to look up.

Lloyd stared silently at him.

Lloyd was drenched in blood, and gashes and his eyes glowed a white color- like the demons in the altar room. He had his sword in his hands, hanging down lazily from his uneven grip.

"Lloyd?" Ray asked, peering at him through the darkness, "Is that you, Lloyd?"

Instead of giving him an answer, Lloyd's mouth slightly gaped open and a low breath escaped it.

"What are you doing?" Ray asked, feeling even more frightened and confused at the image than anything else. _That _is _Lloyd, isn't it?_

Ray replayed everything that happened to him in a matter of seconds. Things could just get worse and worse by the second. The voice and the hallucination were definitely two things, but seeing Lloyd suddenly appear out of nowhere, and stare at him with empty, soulless eyes was something else.

He hadn't been trapped in the castle for ten minutes, and already, petrifying images and voices were beginning to haunt, and traumatize him.

Lloyd coughed up blood, and it sloshed indolently to the floor. A string of blood and saliva hung down from one of his teeth and over his lip. Ray gasped and stumbled back, wanting the horrific sight to leave him alone. He caught a glimpse of Lloyd raising his sword to shoulder level, staring straight at Ray. "Whoa, what the f-"

Lloyd's foot stepped awkwardly in his direction, over the pool of blood he coughed up. "It can't be him." Ray said to himself. _There's no way he could-_ Lloyd moved two steps closer.

"You, stay away from me." Ray blurted out of fear. Lloyd ignored him and stepped closer, his head hanging lazily from his collarbone. Ray realized he was still gripping his pistol, and he automatically raised his pistol to Lloyd's head, "Stay _away_ from me!" He warned a second time.

His grip on the weapon was trembling, but it was his only defense.

Lloyd didn't stop.

Ray pulled the trigger, and the bullet slammed into Lloyd's forehead. His head tilted back from the impact, but he snapped it back into place.

The blood from the bullet leaked out and dribbled down over his face. The voice sounded again, more violent and threatening this time, "**Do you know what it's like to be torn apart alive?**" Ray felt his heart rate increase. Lloyd didn't stop staring at him. "**You will never get out of here…**"

Ray's aim faltered, and his hands quivered more forcefully, unsure if it was from the fear or intense cold.

"**NEVER!**" Ray felt as if the floor was shaking. He tried to get a tighter grip on his pistol, and get ahold of something solid in a world that trembled viciously.

He stumbled back into the hole that the Muscular creature created-which he forgot completely it was there-and darkness shrouded his vision. He tumbled down a steep hill, and tried desperately to grab something to bring himself to a halt, but couldn't. Jagged stones and rocks that stuck up from the ground dug into his skin as he tumbled deeper and deeper down the dark hill.

Ray finally skidded to a stop, and the darkness was too heavy for him to see his own hands. He searched blindly in his belt for a flashlight. He felt his hand grip it and his fingers fumbled with the button before he clicked it on. The first place he directed it was at the top of the hill where he fell. He could see the hole in the wall, but Lloyd was gone.

The flashlight beam skimmed over the ground, searching for his fallen weapon. He found it lying in a corner, with half the rounds spilled out.

A small sigh that had been building up inside of his chest relieved itself.

He picked up the handgun, and started replacing the bullets, when a sharp growl to his right crawled through the darkness, and he beamed the light at a set of six doors ahead of him. It was too dark on the other side of each of them too see what lay behind them.

He thought he saw a pair of glowing eyes staring at him from the second door. He passed it off as a hallucination when they faded in the black.

Taking a step forward, he shone the light on the third archway and walked through. Another hallway. This one was shorter than the corridor.

He only walked halfway through when a loud smash made his blood freeze. His breath caught in his throat and he beamed the light at the end of the hallway.

The abhorrent noises continued to shatter the silence into a million pieces, but there was no one in the hallway. What was making that noise? It was just question, after question.

Seeing no choice, Ray clicked off the flashlight-as it were probably causing the attention of unwanted creatures- and walked to the ending of the hallway, kicking his willpower into overdrive.

The hallway spilled out over a large room, half the size of the altar room. The ceiling was too high for him to see it. The archway was built behind a large ledge. The floor was a few hundred feet down from where he was standing. He saw what was making the noise.

A black figure stood in the center of the massive room, and Ray peered at it in hopes of getting a better view to interpret what it really was, but no luck.

Ray stared at it in confusion, wondering why it wasn't paying attention to him. He peered closer and realized it had it's back turned to him. It lunged forward. The sudden movement made Ray jolt.

Claws dug out of it's fingers, and it's right arm trembled, growing muscles. It was evolving.

Ray looked across the ledge, and saw another archway for him to escape into. No way was he going back. Not with Lloyd in the other room, probably searching for his runaway victim. Trembling, he forced his feet to carry him across the pathway.

The archway seemed to get farther the more he walked, but he knew it was just his fear toying with his eyes.

He eyed the evolving creature. It's back burst into a mass of ripped, powerful muscles.

Staring back at the archway, it was close enough for him to see that there was nothing precarious waiting for him on the other side of it. He breathing grew faster from the extreme tension, but he held it. He didn't want to make the creature to sense any sign that he was behind it. He thought about firing it a headshot, and ending it, but he didn't know if any other creatures were nearby. He needed anything but to get more unwelcome attention.

Finally, he reached the archway. Striding backwards, he stared at the fully Evolved being one last time before continuing on. His blood froze when his foot slipped. He caught his balance, but the slip pushed a stone down the ledge.

Even for the stone's small size, Ray felt like it was crashing down. The Evolved creature's head jerked up and looked behind him.

Drawing away, he ran.

Rounding a corner, Ray heard a loud _thud_ behind him. The Evolved creature was chasing him. Ray dared a look back, but he didn't see it. He gasped when he saw it round the corner, and charge at Ray with improbable speed. He peered down the hallway and saw a crack in the wall that could fit Ray, but not the demon. The word _escape_ pounded repeatedly in his head.

He arrived at the crack and squeezed himself through. The sound of the Evolved being struggling to get inside grew fainter the more he shuffled through the crack's path.

The pathway ended, spilling into the corridor again. He was back where he started. This time, the door was open. He ran through thoughts in his mind as to why it was now open, but he then didn't care anymore.

A sound from his right caught his attention and he swung around and fired a bullet, not looking at who he was firing at.

* * *

**Ok, I don't know why, but I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter. I tried rewriting it, over and over, but I just couldn't get it the way I wanted T-T Well, if you find something wrong, plz review :3**


	8. Chapter 7

** -Hey, long time, no update. I was focusing on another story on fictionpress, but I'm still going to continue this. ...Reaver, you're still updating, right? Just asking, ^^ I haven't heard from you in the past month. Well, more updates comming soon. And sorry if this chapter was kind of shorter than the others. Part B of Repercussions was 3 minutes long, so I had so little to work with. I already have the ending to Repercusisons planned out, so I'll actually get this fanfic finished. Review, Review, Review, come on, don't make me beg! I hate begging, but you guys are leaving me with no choice!**

* * *

_ The General strolled almost absentmindedly out of the room, and down the empty hallway, allowing the door to close itself behind him._

_ Great, what could the doctor want now? He'd found the artifact, completed the mission, and brought it back. What more problems had to face him?_

_ He rounded a turn, and walked another hallway before he faced the lab door. Dr. Romanov's gaze had been set with distress and ache which seemed to worsen when the General stepped in._

_ "Romanov, what's the problem?" The General asked, suddenly eager to know what was getting in their way now._

_ Dr. Romanov was sulking over the table behind the power-source, as if he stayed in that position for years. He plucked off his glasses, revealing the stress and bags under his eyes, "I- Sir- Well, it's-" A sigh, "I don't know where to begin."_

_ The General strolled towards him, "Spit it out, goddamn it."_

_ Dr. Romanov shot him a look that was torn between rejection and regret, "The artifact is hollow."_

_ The General just stared at him, and blinked, "Hollow?" The word replayed itself over and over in his mind. The General was going to ask him exactly what he meant, but Dr. Romanov answered before he asked, "I examined it over and over, and I don't know why, but there's nothing inside of it."_

_ Once again, the General revisited the memories from the altar room. Could the orb's emptiness have a connection with what happened at the top of the altar? With Etrius? Maybe._

_ Although his questions were on the verge of receiving answers, he was surpassed by a consuming shock. All they did, all those fallen soldiers, recruiting the Elite Team out of retirement, losing three members, and putting the last one in isolation, all for… Nothing?_

_ The idea seemed so unreal, so absurd, but there it was-sitting right in front of him. Nothing._

_ Black began to line his vision, working the edges in. He grabbed the table to keep his balance. He placed a hand to his forehead, irritated and skeptical at what was happening._

_ Dr. Romanov noticed his stress, "I- I'll leave you alone."_

_ And he was gone, just like the power inside the orb._

_ An object, somewhere in his line of vision, he noticed a phone receiver, and calling his superiors was the next thought that flashed in his mind._

_ He shook the thought from his head. No. What would he say? Hello, sir. I'd like to inform you with some entertaining news. The artifact is empty! Isn't that great?_

_ Although, he was told to contact them once he received any news._

_ Muddling up every drop of courage, he picked up the receiver and dialed._

_ The phone stopped abruptly after three second, and a cold voice echoed through the line, "Yes?" _

_ The General carefully picked out his first words. His tone showed the slightest tendency of exhaustion and anxiousness, "The mission details have been followed and the artifact is retrieved-" He paused. The superior knew he was hesitating, but didn't say anything._

_ "Though, we may have a problem."_

_ The superior remained silent._

_ Since the superior didn't say anything more, the General reluctantly went on, "According to the Doc, it's empty. The current whereabouts are unknown." The General held his breathe, wondering what the superior would say, how he would react. He was caught by surprise at what the superior said next, after the long epic of silence._

_ "Find it." The superior ordered plainly._

_ "Yes, sir." The General took the order. The superior hung up before he could say anymore._

_ No way could he mess this up, like how he had with the last one. Find it; Such a simple order._

_ And yet, so difficult._

* * *

As Helicopter Pilot Plisskin opened his eyes, a wave of agony rushed over him. A dull throbbing pounded in his head. Blood smeared on his eyes and red traces edged his vision. Everything was a blur, and he couldn't make anything out.

He realized he was still inside the chopper. Two unfamiliar hands lay on his stomach, and he was surprised when they moved on his command. He realized they were his.

Light poured in through the front window of the chopper, which was packed with a mass of spider-webbed cracks, and he distinctively heard the faint beeping of the damaged machinery in the controls.

A muffled banging at the door and shouting pulled him into reality.

"Plisskin! Open the door!" Jason's voice sounded muffled. He wasn't sure if it was his ears, or the door giving the nearly inaudible effect.

More banging. "Plisskin, can you hear me? Open the door!"

Blood dripped down from Plisskin's eye and mouth. His green visor hadn't broken, but his radio did.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Jason shouted as gunshots rang out. Something was attacking him, and not just something, but several somethings.

"FUCKING BASTARDS! I SAID, GET AWAY!" Jason's voice shouted once again, more resolve edging his voice, and more gunshots rang out.

Plisskin realized he was lying on the floor, and he swiftly sat up at the sound of his friend's voice. He pulled himself to a standing position as more gunshots were heard and louder swearing was heard from Jason.

"Jason…?" Plisskin muttered as he sauntered to the door.

A bullet flew through the door. Plisskin fell to the ground, and quickly scrambled to his feet.

_Jason, shit_. He grabbed the door handle and tried to yank it open, but it wouldn't budge. He tried repeatedly and desperately to wrench it. The impact of the chopper had not only damaged the controls, but the door, too.

He heard Jason's gun click, and his mind plummeted when he realized he was out of ammo.

Jason's voice sounded again, "No… _No_!" A slash of claws were heard and his screams were drown out by the blood gurgling in his throat.

Plisskin stopped trying to pry open the door when his friend greeted him with silence. He looked down and saw a pool of blood seeping through the bottom of the door. A hollow, raspy breathing was heard and a fist collided with the door. The creatures knew Plisskin was inside.

Plisskin stumbled back and fell at the sound of the second hit, and hastily crawled to the glove compartment. As he swung it open, he saw an emergency magnum lying inside, waiting impatiently to be used. Grabbing the firearm, he whizzed around and saw hungry, humanoid creatures prying the door open. Plisskin aimed the pistol and squeezed the trigger.

The gun clicked.

Plisskin swore under his breath and he examined the weapon as the creatures were opening the door wider. Plisskin realized the gun was out of ammo. He reloaded and fired a headshot at the first creature that was coming in. It fell to the floor, with the blood gushing out of it's forehead, resembling a water hose. A second one promptly crawled in.

Plisskin's hand shook violently as he aimed the pistol, allowing his first three shots to miss. He was terrible at aiming.

The creature was now on it's feet, walking faster. Even from it's distance, Plisskin could smell the animal's ghastly breathe. Finally, a bullet jammed itself into the creature's left shoulder. A second hit it's ankle. It fell facedown, inches away from Plisskin's feet.

The being looked up at him. Still alive.

Plisskin pointed the barrel of the gun at the creature's head, but it's arm flew out and clutched his wrist. The pistol now pointed in the air. Plisskin struggled against the creature. Gunshots fired through the roof as Plisskin kicked his foot against the creature's face.

He kept kicking constantly at it's face until it stopped moving. Blood smeared it's skin and oozed out it's mouth.

Plisskin's breathing and pulse raged out of control. He shook violently from panic, and he gritted his teeth to help calm him down, but he stopped even trying when he saw more demons trying to come in. Raising the pistol again, he pressed the trigger, but it clicked again. No more ammo this time.

He looked up and saw one of the creatures slam the door open with unbelievable strength. Plisskin yelped and struggled his feet against the floor, trying to push himself back, but there was nowhere else to go.

The creatures lazily walked in, brain-dead, starved.

"Stay away from me," Plisskin pleaded, his voice quavering. He took a stupid choice and threw the pistol at the nearest creature's face, "STAY AWAY!" The weapon hit the creature's jaw, but it didn't stop walking.

Plisskin cringed, threw his arms over his head, and squeezed his eyes shut, blogging out the scene. But something went wrong. The beings stopped moving. Plisskin opened his eyes.

The creatures just stood there, staring off into space, as if looking for something lost, or waiting to be told an order. Plisskin stared back at them, lowering his arms in confusion.

The powerful voiced boomed over the castle, "**LLLOOOYYDD**." A loud thud crashed against the side of one of the castle's towers.

The creatures waiting outside the chopper ran away, so did the beings inside.

Plisskin looked around in confusion and stared out the window. The creatures were gone. He realized he was holding his breath. He let it out, shakily.

Trembling, he got to his feet and walked to the open door. Jason's body lay lifeless on the ground in a pool of blood, certainly dead. He carried the body inside the chopper, found a blanket and covered his dead comrade.

He then hauled the two dead creatures to the door of the chopper and flung them out. They hit the ground with a soundless thud.

Plisskin felt his legs grow weak, and he fell to his knees.

What was he supposed to do now?


	9. Chapter 8

**-Ok, now, I really want to get to the end of repercussions and start Castle IV. I'm enjoying writing this, but I really want to get my version of Castle IV started.**

** I'm basicly going to write the the last three chapters in this order: Part D1, C, D2, since in the series, the episodes were out of order, for some weird reason. _ As for the flashback, I tried writing a bit of suspense, but you tell me how it went. :)**

* * *

_ Barging into a terrorist base, utterly unprepared was nothing but ludicrous. The Elite Team didn't have any clearance to the terrorist group documents, so they'd just have to risk everything and wait until sometime near 12 AM to hack into the computer files. With Etrius' infiltration skills to shut down the cameras, and hack into the computer memory, and Beecher's vast knowledge of the government's files, finding the terrorist group documents should seem a piece of cake._

_ "Etrius, hurry the fuck up!" Beecher hissed in his lowest volume while eyeing the corridors for guards, or any wandering soldiers who might still be awake._

_ "Will you be fucking patient? This takes time. And keep that damn flashlight on the cables!" Etrius didn't take his eyes off the security camera's wires. If one mistake was made… Etrius didn't want to be reminded of what happened the last time he'd messed up._

_ An icy current tickled the back of Beecher's neck. Over his shoulder, he gave the darkness a long, distrustful look. He didn't like this. Never once had he snuck out, disabled security cameras, and hack into government files. Doing it alone, without any experience was way too risky, which was why he'd chosen Etrius to go with him._

_ "Ok, that's it," Etrius said after cutting the final wire. "Let's go."_

_ Beecher blinked in surprise. "That's it?" He gazed at the security camera with a doubtful look. "Are you sure?"_

_ "Yes, I'm sure. Want a demonstration?" Etrius gave the lenses a stiff middle finger, but the camera didn't move._

_ Beecher made a noise that was torn between disbelief and torment._

_ Suddenly, footsteps and the distant sound of chatter echoed from one of the hallways._

_ "Shit." Beecher murmured, and he gave Etrius a look that said: Let's get the hell out of here. Etrius nodded, and they trudged down a different hallway._

_ The beam from the flashlight casted dim shadows on the walls, and they scanned the hallway for any other security cameras. Once they'd found none, they stopped at a corner, peered around the edge to make sure nobody was lingering ahead of them, and rounded the turn. Beecher led the way, and it didn't occur to Etrius until now, that he didn't even know where Beecher was going to get the files from._

_ "Wait, wait, wait," Etrius came to an abrupt halt. "Hold on a second."_

_ Beecher's jogging slowed to a stop, and he turned around to face a confused Etrius. "What's the problem?" He glanced around the hallway. "Cameras?"_

_ "Where exactly are we going?" Etrius didn't even care about sounding as stupid as he thought he did. Beecher hadn't told him where he'd been planning to go, and this definitely concerned him._

_ Beecher shot Etrius a look of deduction, as if he'd never wanted Etrius to ask. "I know you're going to hate this, but-"_

_ "It's the General's office isn't it?" Etrius cut him off. "In his laptop files."_

_ Beecher let out a small breath of confession, and continued to the next hallway, not wanting to start a conversation that might end up with yelling, and attracting attention. Etrius lingered behind for a few counts before following. He clenched his teeth as the General's features replayed themselves in his thoughts. Anything as small as a thought of him made Etrius want to punch a wall, but he just kept reminding himself why he was here. He needed to hack into his files to get more information about where the terrorist building exactly was._

_ His thoughts were interrupted when the General's office door came into view. Etrius looked around the hallway, but still saw no cameras. Good. Better off staying that way, and not having to waste any time deactivating security._

_ Etrius tired the door. Locked. Of course._

_ Digging into his pocket, he kneeled down, fished out a pick and tension wrench, and carefully began picking through it slowly. Beecher sighed. Even with infiltration having to take time, he'd originally thought that with Etrius' advance skill; they'd get through this twice as fast._

_ Etrius aligned the tension of the wrench into the lower portion of the keyhole, twiddled with the wrench until he found out which way to turn it, torqued it to the right, and stopped. He inserted the pick into the upper part of the keyhole, and felt how high the pins were set. He pressed the stubborn pin with just enough pressure to overcome the downward pressure of the spring. He continued twisting the wrench and pressing the pins until they were all set. He gave the wrench a clean twist, and the latch unlocked._

_ Even though the lights were off, Etrius and Beecher still remained silent as they peered past the door to make sure no security cameras were watching the room, and nobody was inside. When they saw the room empty, they sighed and emerged from behind the door, closing it behind them._

_ Beecher beamed the flashlight to the General's laptop which sat, shut off, on his desk. Wanting to get this over with, he flipped it open, and turned it on._

_ "Shit. Password." Beecher turned to Etrius as if he'd asked a question._

_ With a few clicks on the keyboard, Etrius got the laptop starting up. Beecher didn't want to know how he did it. He just wanted to hurry up and get this shit done. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in the center of the General's office, on his laptop, in the middle of the night, without permission._

_ Etrius stepped aside for Beecher to take control of the laptop and find the file, since he knew exactly where each one was._

_ The light from the laptop screen reflected on their faces and casted large shadows on the wall and ceiling as they searched the laptop's memory. Every now and then, Etrius would glance up at the door's window to make sure nobody looked through and saw them._

_ "Think you can speed it up?" Etrius asked with impatience sharpening his tone._

_ Beecher eyed him with an irritated expression. "I didn't rush you when we were shutting down the security cameras."_

_ "Uh, actually," Etrius replied with sarcasm. "You kind of did."_

_ Beecher shifted his attention back to the laptop screen in hopes of leading the conversation elsewhere. "Here, I got the document." He opened up the folder, and pages after pages of information and walls of text infiltrated the screen._

_ Etrius squinted to get a better view of the small text. "Great, now how are we going to print this shit out?"_

_ Beecher's light skimmed over the desk and room in hopes of finding a printer, but no luck. He gave Etrius a jaded look, which made him groan. He always hated writing and would try to find a way around doing it, but this was no exception. Etrius slid open a drawer under the desk, pulled out a sheet of paper, sharpie, and began copying the most vital information._

_ Area name, building, floor, and room number. The document even had a picture of the leader's face. Since they had no printer, or phone camera, they would have to memorize the leader's features._

_ Footsteps from outside shifted their attention to the door, and two silhouettes were seen through the door's window, along with the faint sound of chatter. Etrius and Beecher swore under their breath, and quickly shut down the General's laptop, wiped their fingerprints from the keyboard, and searched the room for somewhere to hide. _

_ Finding nothing but his desk, they quickly scrambled to the floor and hid under it. The front end of the desk blocked out most of their view of the door, so they couldn't see who was coming in._

_ "Turn off the flashlight!" Etrius whispered as the door opened._

_ Two footsteps sounded, and Beecher and Etrius remained deathly still._

_ "The plan was to go tomorrow. I haven't changed my mind." One of them said in a voice Beecher and Etrius didn't recognize. They didn't bother trying to identify him._

_ The General's voice came next. "The sooner we get there, the sooner their terrorism and riots cease. We can't risk waiting any longer. They outsmarted the Elite Team, and murdered thousands of hostages. God knows what else they're capable of."_

_ The other voice sighed. "We're not even prepared to go tonight, anyway… What did we come here for again?"_

_ "I left some important documents here. Just give me a minute." The General replied._

_ Etrius wearily looked down at the notes he'd taken. Would the General realize someone had been through his files? He hoped not._

_ "There. Now, we can leave." The General said. Etrius suddenly wished he could, too._

_ Just as their footsteps were becoming distant, the General stopped. "Wait."_

_ "Something wrong?"_

_ The General didn't reply for a long time. "How did we get inside? The door was unlocked. Someone unlocked it."_

_ Etrius' blood froze, so did his breathing. Shit. Shit. Shit. Could the General know?_

_ "Stop worrying so much. Probably one of the Janitors came in to clean, and forgot to lock the door." The other one said, trying to sound reassuring. The General's silence told him otherwise._

_ The General strolled back to his desk, and stopped, inches away from Beecher and Etrius. Etrius held his breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear his own heartbeat, which was really bad, considering he had to remain silent._

_ "Come on, let's just go. There's nothing here." The voice said, ambling to the door in a gesture that he wanted to leave. Etrius wondered what the rush was as much as he wanted to know who the other person was._

_ He heard the General sigh and he walked to the door. It closed behind them, and Beecher and Etrius waited a few counts for their footsteps to vanish down the hall before they sighed and emerged from under the desk._

_ Beecher gave Etrius a look of anger and annoyance. "I'm never doing this again."_

* * *

The weak light the sun offered poured down over the hallway. Two black brick walls thousands of feet high, towered above the surviving soldiers when they climbed down, and took a short break. Sergeant John Mullins took slow drags on his cigar, the smoke floating around him from under his mustache.

Boomer didn't cough or gag under the smoke's intenseness, not showing any sign of weakness. Two surviving privates sat on the floor, their backs leaning against the wall. They'd only been trapped inside the castle for an hour, and already, they felt like they were living in a world of black and white.

"The choppers already left us. There's no way we can get to courtyard, now. We're thousands of feet below it!" One of the surviving privates said, slamming his rifle in anger at the lack of ideas.

The other private noticed his comrade was already blowing up at the situation. "Will you calm down? The General had to have left at least _one_ chopper for us. If he didn't, we're alive for now, and that's all I care about."

"Yeah, well, we won't be alive for much longer unless we find a way out of here," The private looked up at the thousand-foot wall, and down the two narrow pathways. "The outer wall is what's keeping us separated from the courtyard. If we can find a way around it, we can get out of here. But, the question is: How? I don't know about you, but I want to live."

"Look, bottom line, we'll end up at the outer wall, somewhere… _sometime_, sooner or later," One of the soldiers explained to his comrade, trying to find a way to reassure him., "And from there, we could just… Climb down. I don't know."

Boomer's ears picked up a low vibrating sound. He looked around, but didn't notice anything. Then, just as soon as the sound came, it was gone. "You heard something?" He asked the sergeant.

Mullins plucked the cigar out of his mouth, "Nah. Just my empty stomach."

Boomer still didn't put his guard down. Staying here seemed to be the most dangerous option, but they didn't have many left. They needed to get out of there. His mouth thinned and his eyes darkened as he turned around and walked to the privates.

"Roberts," One of them started, "With all due respect, you're just being a moron right now."

Roberts scoffed upon hearing this, "Well, I don't want to just sit here, and get my ass ripped in two by some-"

Boomer grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"-_Freak_?"

He was thrown into a standing position. The other soldier quickly stood up, not wanting Boomer to make an example of him.

"Alright," Boomer announced, "Let's move." He tossed Roberts his fallen rifle.

Boomer led the way, suddenly finding Robert's energetic voice annoying. Even though the vibrating sound had dissipated, Boomer still felt a threatening sensation in the air. No one seemed to notice his hurry to get moving, which was a good thing. He didn't want to alarm the privates.

As they walked, Roberts pushed his bravery, "You don't always have to be that brutal, you know." He swallowed, thinking he'd just received a death sentence.

Boomer made a noise of amusement, "Heh. You want a hug?" He tried to lead a conversation that might take his mind off the hostile sense that they were being watched.

"No thanks," Roberts replied, "I don't want to break my neck."

Before Boomer could reply, they passed a large crack in the wall. The same vibrating noise he'd heard earlier sounded again, louder this time. Boomer stopped and stared at it, expecting something to come out. He _knew_ he heard something.

The other soldiers eyed him and stopped moving. "Boomer?" One of them asked in confusion.

Everyone remained deathly still, and for a second, it was as if time itself had stopped. Mullins didn't remove his cigar from his mouth, and he stared from Boomer to the hole. _What's this guy worrying about?_

Once Boomer heard the sound stop, he turned to his comrades, remaining silent. The tension was relieved.

One of the soldier sighed, "Ah, Christ. You scared the crap out of-" A large transparent tentacle threw itself out of the crack and rammed into him. He let out a cry as he hit the wall.

Boomer whizzed around and stared at the soldier as the tentacle harshly pressed the soldier's flailing body against the wall. Blood painted the stone as it ran down the walls in a waterfall of red liquid from the body. As the soldier struggled to get free, he stretched an arm out to his comrades in a gesture for help, unable to speak, since the tentacle had torn into his lungs.

Boomer turned to the others, "RUN!"

Mullins and Boomer ran, their footsteps inaudible over the croaking and coughing of the soldier. Roberts however, couldn't take his eyes off the horrific sight. It was when the tentacle slammed it's victim against the walls over and over when Roberts came to his senses and ran.

The tentacle dropped the now-dead body and chased them.

Boomer eyed the tentacle as it slammed it's way after them, letting them know it was getting closer. As he ran at top speed, he felt as if his feet left the ground, but he knew the thought was ridiculous. He didn't have to look back again to know the tentacle was gaining on them, every second.

Peering down the hallway, Mullins saw an archway, an exit, survival. Boomer and Roberts saw it the same time he did. He felt the tentacle getting closer, and this gave them encouragement to keep running. Death was knocking loudly, but they wouldn't answer the door.

They ran into the archway and into a large room. A trench stood in the center, and a narrow pathway encased the wall of the inside tower.

"Stop!" Mullins cried out in alarm as soon as he saw a dead end. He looked to his left and saw the pathway leading to the other side of the room. "Other way!"

Boomer and Roberts ran along the path, keeping balance to not fall off the closing edges. They heard the tentacle smash its own way in before they saw it. Boomer saw Roberts about to fall off the edge. He grabbed his arm a split-second before it was too late and threw him ten feet ahead.

"What drugs are you on, Boomer?" Mullins shouted as he kept running.

Roberts was on all fours, trying to catch his breath. Boomer grabbed his shirt and pulled him back into a running position. No time for breaks.

The tentacle kept getting closer, banging the ground, sending dust flying into the air. It spiraled it's way over the trench and threw itself at Roberts. It crashed into the wall, inches behind him. Roberts tripped over and tumbled to the ground. Boomer and Mullins were too far ahead to go back and help him. He had to save himself.

Boomer didn't expect two of the same creatures he'd seen in the altar room that jumped out at him from below the pathway. He blew the first one's brains out, and gave the one behind him a roundhouse kick. A third ran up to him, but he grabbed it's head and slammed it into the wall. The stone dented where he slammed the creature's head. Turning around, he said, "Come on, soldier! Get your ass over here!"

Roberts scrambled to his feet, shot three seconds worth of rounds at the creature, and limped his way to Boomer and Mullins. Mullins looked on the other side of the pathway and noticed a mass of creatures running their way; the tentacle coming the other way.

"Ah, we're trapped!" Mullins shouted, "Do something about those freaks!"

As if on cue, Boomer uncapped two grenades with his teeth. He threw one at the horde of creatures, and the other inside a small hole in the wall. Boomer cleared himself, Roberts, and Mullins by throwing themselves to the ground. The grenades went off.

The first one he threw only stopped half of the creatures. The second one blew a crater in the wall.

"Great. It was nice knowing you guys." Mullins said as he and Boomer jumped in the crater for cover. Boomer and Mullins crouched inside the dent in the floor, and fired nonstop rounds at the creatures in a failed attempt to slow them down. Taking down three at a time was easy, but hundreds?

Roberts jumped inside the crater to regain cover. Looking at the legion of creatures drained away all hope, but was quickly regained when an idea struck him. He ran to the dented wall, gripped his rifle tighter, and slammed the bottom of his gun against it. The sound echoed off, so he knew there was a room on the other side. They could escape.

He slammed the rifle against the wall again and it burst open just enough for them to squeeze through. Mullins and Boomer went first. Roberts lingered to shoot the five creatures that got close to them, and then he squeezed in.

Roberts was shuffling his way through the wall, getting to the other side as fast as he could when something caught his ankle. He tried wrestling free, but it's grip was too strong. It was pulling him back out.

"Boomer! Mullins!" He cried out, "It's got me!" He tried grasping something, but there was nothing to hold on to. His fingers dug into the wall as the creature pulled him back.

Boomer and Mullins went back at the sound of their comrade and grabbed his arms. They tried desperately to pull the private out of the creature's grasp, but it wouldn't let go. "Pull!" Mullins shouted as a wave of adrenaline washed over him. Roberts was yanked away from the creature. They fell back into the other room.

Boomer scrambled to his feet, not even waiting to regain his energy and surveyed the new room-no-cave they were in. A thick gray mist clogged their vision. Mullins and Roberts looked around along with him.

Stalactites hung down from the ceiling, and tall columns and pillars towered above them. The mist was too heavy for them to see below their knees, but if Mullins squinted just enough, he could make out the outline of a staircase that ended with an archway. "Guys," Mullins murmured. "I think I see an exit."

Their blood froze when their eyes adjusted to the mist. Thousands of black silhouettes surrounded them.

The whites of their eyes were replaced with black, small white dots glowed in their irises, and the bags under their eyes sagged. Their bodies were bony and fragile. Their mouths gaped open, revealing revolting black teeth and nauseating breath.

"Follow me," Boomer said to Mullins before the private could panic. "I think they're asleep."

They held their rifles over their heads and shifted through the sea of bodies, careful not to make any sudden movements as to which it could wake the creatures in the wrong place at the wrong time. The exit wasn't far away; Fifty feet left until freedom.

A gunshot went off and hit one of the columns.

Everyone stopped in their tracks. "What the-" Boomer murmured as he looked around in confusion. Where could a gunshot have come from? He looked back at his team, but no one was carrying a pistol.

The threating voice boomed over the room in a strange language, "**Namuh dlrow ruoy ot em ekat won. Taht naht elpmis erom teg ton seod ti. Em deen uoy dna uoy deen I.**"

Boomer kept his eyes closed while he heard this, knowing what it was saying. Redness outlined his vision when he opened his eyes, defining his exhaustion.

Once the voice fell silent, the dormant creatures awoke from their eternal slumber and cracked their heads into place, staring straight at their prey.

"MOVE!" Boomer shouted to the others, who didn't really need an order to get their asses out of there.

The same words the castle said repeated themselves over and over as they ran to the archway.

Two creatures latched onto Boomer, but he threw the first one off his back, and the second off his arm. They weren't powerful fighters, or fast at running, but once they latched onto something; it was difficult to pull them off. Boomer didn't know if it was from just waking up, or if they were just like that.

An awakened creature stepped lazily in front of Roberts. Roberts raised his rifle and shot countless round into it's brain. The sound of the bullets were muffled through it's head. It's limp body fell to the floor, and Roberts kept running, not letting his sights off Boomer, who was clawing his way through the crowd with a dangerous smile tightening his mouth.

Boomer's hands tore through the horde of creatures, as if afraid that losing his grip, he would lose a part of himself-literally.

Mullins grabbed a Hibernating Evil's head and sliced it off with his dagger. The blood spilled over the floor and slapped on his torn jacket and tattered pants. He kept running, but another creature grabbed his arm. He struggled to get free, but another one grasped his free arm, trapping him. The awoken creatures surrounded him, and Mullins was swallowed up in the silhouettes.

Boomer reached the stairway, and crawled up, out of energy with Roberts close behind. Turning around, he saw the private climbing up with him. He flopped down, out of breath, and paralyzed by shock. He kept his eyes on the sea of awoken creatures, waiting for Mullins to emerge, but he didn't see him. He was right behind him, wasn't he?

"Mullins?!" He shouted. Once he got no response, he screamed again, "MULLINS!?"

* * *

**-Did you read it? No? Then read it again. And then leave a review. :)**

** I've also published a Castle battle, if your in the mood for warcraft, action, fighting, etc.**


	10. Chapter 9

Two red eyed creatures grabbed Mullins' arms, and dragged him away, deeper into the crowd. The Archway seemed to be fading from his vision, as he was pulled farther and farther. He heard Boomer calling him, but was too much out of breath to answer. The more he struggled against the Creatures, the more tightly their grip became, until his arms went numb. He wrenched his right arm free, but the Creature caught it again. He kept running through plans in his mind. Struggling with the Creatures only made things worse, and he couldn't reach his rifle, or his dagger.

Finally, the red eyed Creatures threw him into an open space, with the entire horde surrounding him… Staring at him. Were they going to move, or what? Were they just going to stand there? He forced his arm to move and quickly threw a punch at the nearest Creature's face. A trail of blood followed a tooth that fell out.

The creature still didn't move. It only stared, like the rest, as if waiting for an order. What should he do? What should he do? Shit man, what _could_ he do? The threatening voice sounded again, in English this time. "**Don't make me destroy you.**"

Mullins gritted his teeth to keep his panic leveled, and threw a punch at another Hibernating Creature that dared to grab his arm. Another grasped his wrist, but he killed it instantly with a punch to the lower- jaw. The blood splattered over it's face and it slumped to the floor.

Mullins pulled out his rifle and slammed the gun against a Creature that stood in front of him, but it didn't even falter. They continued staring at him, and closing in. He saw an exit. Not the one Roberts and Boomer went through, but this one was closer. The other exit was too far. The Creatures were beginning to close in around him. He took the one closest to him, in a desperate need to breathe.

To his shock, the Creatures didn't follow.

The blackness clogged Mullins' vision, but he continued running aimlessly. He wished he'd taken a different exit, although he didn't want to go back in the cave with the Hibernating Creatures, unless he was _planning_ to get eaten.

Mullins' breathing didn't echo off anywhere, so he knew the room wasn't as big as he originally thought. Shifting through his belt, his fingers caught a cigarette and a lighter. Only one cigar left. He knew he should save it, but his heart was hammering against his ribs. He needed something to calm him down. The first click didn't produce a flame, but the second lit up just enough to light his cigar. The flames casted a glow around the room just bright enough for him to see what was in front of him. Another archway. How ironic.

After taking a drag, he let the cigar slip from his mouth and fall to the floor. He walked through the archway, hearing the sizzling of the cigarette behind him.

A grey hallway greeted him on the other side of the door. Lost, he walked through it until the end. He turned his head to the right, rounded a turn, and cut up a corridor. Adrenaline returned to him along with a rush of tension, waiting to see what dangers lay ahead.

He started jogging through the hallway, looking back to make sure nothing was following him. He couldn't stop staring behind him, and he couldn't ignore the feeling that he was being watched. Suddenly, his foot lost balance and he fell to the ground, his rifle flying out of his grip.

He lay sprawled on the floor, his leg throbbing with pain. He knew it would leave him sooner or later. Pushing his willpower, he stood up on his feet and saw that three sets of steps had given away his pace. He plucked up his rifle and kept going.

An archway nearest to him seemed to cry out to him, begging him to enter, but he knew better than to go into another dark room, especially since he ran out of cigarettes. He walked the rest of the hallway.

Through the seemingly never-ending darkness, he saw the faintest streak of light down the hallway. He squinted, wanting to make sure his eyes didn't deceive him. As he came closer, he saw he was nearing an exit. Light poured in from the archway, defining its exact shape, even from such a distance. Seeing no other choice, he took it. The eerie black that surrounded him appeared to be suffocating him. He didn't want to get out. He _needed_ to. He couldn't breathe in this hell hole.

He wanted to run to the exit, but his loud footsteps might bring some unwanted attention. Suddenly, he got the feeling that he might not make it out of the castle alive. Boomer and Robert's missing presence suddenly felt very real. He had to survive without him, whether he liked it or not. Gripping his rifle tighter in apprehension, he walked through the archway. He had to survive the Castle, not only to stay alive, but to give that damn bastard who calls himself a General a piece of his mind.

He almost cried out in relief when he saw a room half the size of an altar room. He remembered this place. This was the way to get to the courtyard! Three long frames that stood up on the wall poured in light from outside. A thirty foot staircase climbed up to meet two other staircases that turned to the left. The two staircases met to create an archway that lead to outside. The light was too vibrant for him to see anything behind it, but he didn't care. The only thing he wanted right now was to get out of the living hell.

Behind the set of stairs, a large trench, half the size of the room, separated Mullins from freedom. Two thin stone bridges seemed the only way to get around. He summoned a wave of willpower and started to walk across. He hoped the thin stone would support his weight.

A shuffling noise from up above him caught his attention. He looked up to see five Creatures clinging to the ceiling, about to jump down on him. He aimed his rifle automatically; panic gripped him like a snake. He swallowed down the dread.

One of the Creatures dropped down from the ceiling. It was the last thing it did before Mullins fired a headshot. The blood splattered on the wall behind it.

He raised his rifle again and fired countless bullets at the Creatures on the ceiling. After he shot down two, his rifle clicked. He reloaded and continued firing. The Creature he was firing at seemed to shuffle the wall, dodging every bullet Mullins sent flying.

Another Creature dropped down to his left, He slammed the bottom of his rifle against it's head and it flopped lifeless to the floor.

He reloaded again and went back to nonstop headshots.

He soon found himself outnumbered when he saw a horde of more Creatures crawl down from the ceiling and chase him. He turned around and ran across the bridge.

He eyed the bridge on his right and noticed a Creature running across it on all fours. The Creature was moving too fast for him to see it jump on him.

They both fell, and Mullins pushed against the Creature's strength. He felt a burst of energy and he threw the Creature off him, sending it tumbling into the darkness of the trench.

He flipped over and grabbed his rifle, noticing the three Creatures running his way across the bridge. He fired rounds in a straight line, and the bullets hit all of them at once.

Mullins scrambled to his feet and eyed the exit. He didn't want to believe what he was seeing. Hundreds of Creatures were crawling down the walls like ants to the archway. If he didn't get there in time, he'd just had to deal with the fact that he was as good as dead.

A Creature plopped down from the ceiling and stood in front of Mullins, thinking he saw all that. Behind him, he heard the Creature's feet hit the ground before it let out a blood-chilling growl.

Mullins fired a headshot into the one behind him. The blood splattered the stone floor. The second one lunged at him, but he slammed it's jaw with the side of his rifle. He wasn't sure if it was the sound of the Creature's bones cracking, or the impact of the rifle. He didn't care. He just wanted to get to the exit.

He ran up the first and second flight of stairs with no problem. The floor underneath him began to rumble. At first he thought it was his panic creating a hallucination, but he later realized that it some sort of… Black mist? The mist was crawling it's way up through the trench and cracks. This quickened his steps, because this kind of darkness didn't seem as harmless as the one's back in his dimension.

He almost reached the archway just in time, but another Creature tackled him to the floor. He flailed his feet, and struggled to get free, but the Creature was far too strong. His rifle had flown out of his hands and landed somewhere out of his sight when the Creature attacked him. He suddenly remembered his dagger.

He pulled the dagger out and jammed it deep into the Creature's brain. The blood burbled out as it hit the ground. The Creatures had already climbed their way down and surrounded him. They attacked.

Mullins lashed out with his knife at the Creatures, stabbing heads, hearts, stomachs, anything that was vital enough for them to die. He stabbed it into the back of one's head and it let out a sharp hiss before it fell. The archway was so close, yet so far. The Creatures continued to attack him nonstop. He didn't stop pounding his knife on the Creatures as he sprinted his way to the exit. His mind was set on nothing, but the archway. He could feel the light as if it were wrapping a layer of warm heat around him.

Finally, he reached the outside. A dead end. The legions of Creatures were chasing him from behind. A cliff hung out from the tower. Thousands of feet below, he knew there was a bottom, but he couldn't see it. He scanned left and right, but nowhere to run, and the Creatures were still chasing him.

Seeing no other choice, he jumped.

Mullin's arms reached out to grab something, but his hands connected with nothing. Air was forced out of his lungs, so he had no wind left to yell. Panic rose and bubbled in his chest. The wind seemed to scream past him as he fell through the seemingly bottomless fall. He suddenly remembered when he was little, he would ask, _Do you think someone would survive a thousand-foot drop_? He suddenly took that question very seriously.

His eyes noticed the wall next to him. His arms reached out and his finders dug into the stone, creating a trail behind them. It didn't even slow down his fall.

His hand hit a ledge and he felt as if his body would be torn in half from the sudden stop. Behind him, he heard the falling bodies of the Creatures.

He pulled himself up to the ledge. It was large enough to fit his body. Through all this torment, how was he still alive? Breathing heavily, he thought, _I'm still breathing? _He paused, too much out of energy to think in complete thoughts, _Ah… 'Course I am. Not like it's the _worst _day of my life._

He knew he had to keep going. _Get up,_ He ordered himself. He pushed his palms against the floor to support himself to sit up.

He felt a stinging sensation in his hands and he examined them, pull focus clouding his vision. The flesh was bloody and torn up. Blood dripped down his hands, splattering on the stone. He reached for a wrapping bandage in his belt and immediately started tending his wounds.

_Look around. Up, or down?_ His eyes wandered in the distance, then looked up, _Aim for the top, I've heard._

If he climbed up, he could have a better chance of getting back to the courtyard. If he climbed down, he would have to risk fighting any surviving Creatures. He climbed up.

_It's all his fucking fault._ He thought to himself in anger. Damn the General and his "Saving Humanity" crap. _Why didn't we all just run when the doctor gave us the chance?_ Because they were retards. _He knew it was coming._

He sucked in a low, deep breath, _If I knew he'd put me through this shit, I would've put a bullet in his head at first chance. No joke. This was _not _in my mission's description._

In his mind, he produced a scene, where he raised a pistol to the General's head, firing, and firing, and firing, until he was sure he was dead. The General's body lay lifeless on the ground, his eyes still slightly open, the fear forever engraved in them.

The thought of shooting the General made him smirk, but the imaginary scene vanished, _I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to do that, though. But, why go through all this? Does _anyone _know?_

Finally, he reached another crack and took a short break, arms outstretched in exhaustion. He was all worn out and felt as if he'd climb anymore, his arms would give in. His breathing grew even heavier than before.

_Saving Earth, my ass. Only thing I know is that I ain't givin' up._ He noticed another crack that led to another room.

_Never._

* * *

After catching his breath and feeling all his strength returned, he squeezed through the crack and entered the next room. He recognized it instantly. This was the room he and the others were going through after running through the corridor.

He stopped short when he saw a soldier's body lying, motionless, on the floor, all his limbs torn from their sockets, and the rest of the body lay sprawled in a pool of blood that painted the stone floor. Gore and meat were splattered across the walls, and Mullins was glad that the soldier's face was covered. A rifle lay next to the body.

"Jeez." Mullins mumbled at the horrifying scene. _The fuck happened here? _He picked up the rifle and weighed it in his hands. Good. Still had some rounds left.

Next to the body was an archway that led to the corridor... Wait. Wasn't the door closed earlier? Why was it now open?

Gripping his rifle tighter, he peered around the archway's corner, hoping that something wasn't waiting to jump out at him.

He noticed a rifle lying isolated in the middle of the floor. Risking everything, he walked silently to it, but then heard a sharp, metallic, scraping sound behind him. He turned around; saw nothing, and the noise died out. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. He let it out shakily, "I need a cigarette."

Who would leave their rifle behind? Was someone who could help him still here? He scanned both sides of the corridor, but saw no signs of life. Probably some private dropped it on their way out in their hurry.

Without warning, a flash of light burst in the back of his mind and he felt his feet grow numb. He fell to the floor with a sharp grunt. What the hell happened? Black tinged the edges of his vision, working the edges in. Soon, dark nothingness was all that surrounded him. He couldn't even see his own hands. Was he still in the corridor? A deep voice boomed around him. The words seemed so powerful, so captivating, he just wanted to give in.

"**You can call me a parasite. Travelling to worlds, consuming life at it's pride.**"

Mullins felt the panic grip him again. He managed to get up to his knees, still unsure of where he was. Was there someone speaking in front of him, who he couldn't see?

"What?" He breathed.

"**I need you, and you need me."** The voice continued, it's tone growing higher in elevation. Mullins suddenly realized the voice wasn't someone in front of him, but something lurking in the dark shadows of his thoughts.

It was in his mind.

"Get out of my head." He ordered. It sounded like a warning.

Whatever this being was, it was invading his thoughts, his memories. He felt a dull throbbing pound in his head, and soon, he couldn't think of anything else but the castle.

"**NOW TAKE ME TO YOUR WORLD HUMAN!**" The voice bellowed.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Mullins screamed back.

His iris went thin and he started running, arms flailing the air, jaw clenched in panic and loath. His teeth were stained with bright red blood and it dripped down the side of his mouth. The evil presence didn't dissipate.

This fucking creature wasn't leaving his mind. It felt like he was falling apart, but there was no way in hell was he going to lose his sanity.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" He shouted once more before a gunshot seemed to shatter the air around him, and hit him from behind. He touched the pain before hitting the ground.

* * *

Ray stared at the lifeless figure in front of him as smoke floated out from his pistol from firing a fresh bullet. _I think it's dead_. He'd heard a sound come from behind him as soon as he'd escaped through the crack, and he acted instinctively and fired.

Breathing heavily, he took a, awkward step towards the creature, but something about it was different… It didn't look like a creature at all. It looked more like…

"Shit!" Ray breathed, the gunshot still ringing in his ears. He looked down at the weapons and threw it out of his hands in disgust. He ran to the sergeant, "Fuck! FUCK!"

He dropped to his knees by Mullins' lifeless figure, and screamed his name.

He got no response.

He tried saying his name again, only to torture himself.

"God…" Ray hated himself. He hated the castle. He hated everything that had to do with this stupid mission. After everything he'd seen, it would've taken a lot to shock him, but this certainly did. Good to know he wasn't entirely jaded yet.

It only took one bullet for everything to plummet. If he hadn't pulled the trigger… "Fuck, I shot you… _Fuck I shot you_…" He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. What has he done?

The sound of Mullins coughing up blood sent a wave of penetrating relief flowing through Ray.

"Friendly fire." Mullins said reassuringly, his nails digging into the stone floor. "Friendly fire." He was just glad he'd found _someone_, and the creature voice inside his head was now gone.

His eyes felt like heavy weights, but he managed to open them halfway, able to interpret Ray's silhouette.

"_Mullins_!" Ray screamed in relief.

"Gah, you only hit my arm," Mullins felt the poison of the bullet already infecting him, "I've been worse…" Groaning, he tried to finger the wound, but winced when his arm didn't move on his command. His entire body trembled from the blood loss. At least, he could see again, but dimness started lining his vision, "Got a light?"

Ray ignored his question completely and focused on his gory appearance, "Christ! What happened to you? You look like shit." He splayed a hand on his chest only to gasp when he sees his palm cover in red liquid, "_Blood!_ Blood, everywhere…" His voice trailed off in a low quiver.

Blood seemed to be the only image that replayed itself in his mind. Lots of it.

Blood, blood, blood. His mind couldn't move past three chanting words.

"_Freaks_, everywhere," Mullins replied distantly, then feeling the thought striking him of what Ray had done, and he said unforgivingly, "And, _you_ shot me." He suddenly felt the pain rushing back to him from the bullet wound.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry about that, Serge," Ray apologized with exploding guilt behind his words. "I thought you were something chasing me." He opened his mouth to say more, but Mullins changed the subject, and beckoned Ray to help him stand.

Ray realized he was staring into space, replaying the horrific sights in his mind. Lugging himself back to reality, he hooked Mullins' arm around his neck and helped him into a standing position. Mullins grunted in pain under the sudden movement, "Careful, dammit." They walked down the void corridor, their eyes rapidly scanning the shadows in somber silence.

"Back at the bridge," Ray said, trying to pull his thoughts out of his wordless shock, his voice trembling, "Before it all went down… The General-"

Mullins cut him off, "That piece of shit."

"-He mentioned a courtyard. That the helicopters have already made their way there."

This wasn't news to Mullins, "Whatever."

"Serge?" Ray asked.

Mullins stared at him.

"Were you alone?"

Mullins continued to stare.

"Was there anyone with you?" Ray confirmed.

Mullins' bowed his head, let out a sigh through his nostrils, and looked straight, "Boomer, Roberts…"

He groped around for the other private's name, but he gave up. "Some Other Guy." Their faces sparked in his mind for each name he said, "We all made the fall, but I got separated."

"Boomer…" Ray murmured, suddenly feeling his heart drop to its lowest level, "God, I hope they made it."

Mullins suddenly got the feeling that none of them would.

* * *

**-More chapters comming soon. Haven't written in over two weeks, and that's really terrible in my opinion. The first chapter for the epilogue of Repercussions is already written out, so expect it soon.**


	11. Chapter 10

Boomer and Roberts-the only surviving soldiers sluggishly walked through the dark, circular hallway. Light poured through a crack in the wall as they rounded a turn, but it didn't ease their tension.

Boomer kept his back leaned against the wall, and his rifle close to him, ready to shoot whatever lay ahead. The first thing that greeted them was a wide staircase that spread over the entire room, ahead of the hallway.

The bones of a giant serpent, or dragon, or snake-Boomer didn't want to know-lay sprawled on the stairway. Boomer started thinking that is something could kill a creature that big, did that mean there was something bigger?

_The world is a gaping hole._

The large staircase ended over the top of one of the large towers. A stone bridge stood tall and conceited in the misty distance.

_Too many men were lost in the depths of this place for me to remember. It took me a while to realize _I _was one of them. One on the list of casualties, swallowed in the dark._

Boomer and Roberts rounded the towers outer figure, when Boomer heard a screech coming from the distance and the silhouette of a flying Creature flapping it's way over their direction. Boomer stopped Roberts from going any further by blocking him with his arm, keeping them hidden behind the tower as the Creature flew by, carrying either a soldier or a Creature, they didn't want to find out.

_Funny how it is, when you're used to walking on the safe side, pulling people out of harm's way. When you start to think of yourself as a hero. But then,_

The opposite side of the tower connected to a large bridge, leading to another. Two Creatures jumped down from the roof or a tower above.

_There's no hiding from darkness._

Boomer and Roberts fired headshots. The Creatures slumped to the ground, the thick blood oozing out of their wounds.

_Well, not _this _kind of darkness._

Boomer's mind went back to when they first entered the castle, blasting the gates open. The memories of the debris flying and the smoke clogging the air seemed so vivid; they didn't feel like memories at all.

_Hours have passed since I've first stepped through those gates, and still, the feeling of eyes lingers in my mind._

Back in reality, they Boomer looked above him to see the barriers and towers. They seemed to stoop and twist.

_The walls shift and bend above me, stalking me._

He looked at Roberts, checking the next rounded corner.

_Preying upon the man I can still protect._

He suddenly felt a wave of determination, but it hastily dissipated when he saw some sort of creature sticking it's head out through a crack. It's bony, skeletal figure seemed too blood-chilling for the glow in it's eyes to take it's effect of fear.

_I can hear the whispers. In fact I-_

The creature stirred back into the crack, leaving Roberts and Boomer back in safety-or so they thought.

_I can't seem to hear anything else._

Boomer thought of himself with the weak hearts of the Creatures in the palm of his hand, crushing them for all they were worth. Blood stained his face and the insane smile defined who he really was becoming inside.

_I welcome the sound, and hope that soon, I'll get to break the bones of those demons… Such fragile creatures; they break so easily._

They passed over another set of stairs as wide as the last one they walked. A large bridge in the shape of an archway rounded over them.

_Questions crowd my thoughts; it's a reprieve from the stone's cold chanting._

They found themselves at the top of another tower with an archway that lead into total darkness. Boomer walked through and found himself on a different tower, staring at Ray from behind. What the hell?

_What am I really doing here? _

_Where am I?_

_What is this place?_

_Did any of the others make it?_

_Is there any real hope of escaping from here?_

Looking off in the distance, they saw the gates to get to the courtyard. Their ticket of escape to freedom.

_What difference does hope make anyway? We die in here._

A deliberate image of Beecher, Lloyd, and Etrius entered his thoughts.

_I miss my old team. I miss…everything outside of this darkness but, _them _in particular. Surely, they'll have some of the answers to this riddle-this… maze of questions. Can't help but think I'm not going to see them, though._

A montage sequence of the altar room situation flashed in his mind and layered each thing he saw.

_Something was wrong earlier. That gunshot…_

He replayed the sound of the gunshot in his mind.

_Lloyd pulling arms…_

He remembered Lloyd holding the sword to the General's neck.

_The _hate _in Beecher's eyes._

He recalled the sight of seeing Beecher's red eyes with an unforgiving, cold edge. He remembered the gunshot again. It sounded like a pistol's. But, the only one in the altar room who had their pistol out was… The General.

_The General… Etrius… I… No. I don't believe it! I- I _refuse _to believe it!_

An image of the General appeared in his vision. But, this one didn't look like the General. Sure, he knew this was the same General who gave him his orders but, something was wrong with him. The look in his eyes. They looked… Sinful.

_He wouldn't._

_Lloyd and Etrius are still sealed away in that room. I doubt I'll see them again. I doubt I'll… see anything again._

* * *

**-I'm too lazy to write an author's note.**


	12. Chapter 11

**-I'm sorry if it sucks B( But I already wrote the first chapter to Castle's epilogue (Aka Castle IV). BEGIN!**

* * *

Boomer and Roberts stood on a platform with a set of stairs in front of them, overlooking the vast, empty courtyard. The grey sky added a deathly sense to the lifeless atmosphere, and the freezing air stung on their faces, numbing their skin. Just as he'd thought. The helicopters have left them.

Boomer cursed the General in his thoughts, feeling the rage commandeer him. They should at _least_ give them a chance if they escaped.

He blinked a few times, and peered through the thick, grey mist in hopes of finding any signs of life. None. So, they were stuck in this nightmare with no hope of ever escaping? No, this couldn't be it. They'd been through hell to get out of the castle and live. No way were they going to die because they couldn't get on a damn chopper.

Boomer's mind was screaming with so many questions and thoughts about how to escape, he didn't hear the foreign voice sounding in back of them, similar to a crowd's whispering chants. At first, Boomer didn't pay attention to it, thinking it was just another hallucination. He was gradually becoming insane every minute he spent in the castle.

A black mist- The same one Mullins saw while fighting the Creatures in the room before the fall- seeped through the cracks and crawled up from the depths of the holes in the ground, lurking silently behind them.

Roberts heard the chanting getting louder and his pulse raced. He bit his bottom lip in fear and scanned the courtyard in hopes of finding the source of the awful, murderous chanting. He whizzed around to see the darkness growing in size, with a need to consume.

Roberts' mouth gawked open, and Boomer gritted his teeth in panic. Boomer's eyes turned red from exhaustion and strain, and his blonde hair stuck to his head from sweat. They both did the only thing that they could do.

Run.

They descended the stone stairway, running at top speed to outrun the mist. Boomer glanced behind him to see the black mist devouring the stone and growing closer by the second. He gripped his rifle tighter and kept his teeth clenched. He glanced at Roberts, who was running in frenzy.

No. There was no way in hell that they were dying now that they were so close.

* * *

"Are you sure that was it?" Ray asked Mullins as they limped out of the corridor, connecting to the courtyard.

"There was no one else with me," Mullins replied." After I got separated, I was alone for god knows how long."

Mullins and Ray walked out to the empty courtyard, aware of its lack of escape. Mullins gripped his arm in pain, the blood from the bullet wound seeping through his fingers.

"I'm so sorry about that, Serge. I had no idea-"

"I said friendly fire, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah. But it was just that… I kept hearing these noises, and it scared the shit out of me." Ray replied-reliving the nightmare he's been through.

"I saw some weird crap in that corridor. One minute I'm walking, next thing I know, I can't see shit. And then, it felt like something was crawling under my skin," Mullins continued, his voice echoing through the massive courtyard, "And, I started hearing some freaky voices in my head."

"You're not alone on _that_ part," Ray replied, suddenly remembering freaky Lloyd. Those soulless eyes, blood and wounds covering his body, and his threatening voice. _Do you know what it's like to be torn apart alive…_ Torn apart alive… "I thought I saw…" His voice trailed off when he suddenly thought it was best not to talk about it. "Do you think we'll ever get out of here?"

Mullins didn't reply. Instead, he stopped walking and stared into the mist, as if under a trance.

"Mullins?" Ray asked.

To Mullins, Ray's voice started to sound muffled as he saw a familiar silhouette in the distance. The first thing he saw was the red light.

"Is… Is that…?"

A crashed chopper.

The closer they walked to it; they saw something lying on the floor at the door. It took them a moment to realize they were creatures. Oh god, where was the pilot? They screamed and shouted towards the chopper, trying to get anyone's attention. Anyone who was alive, at least.

Neither Ray nor Mullins knew how to pilot an aircraft. So, if the pilot was dead, so were they.

* * *

Plisskin jerked at the sound of civilized voices in the vacant distance. He stood up and looked out the door. Those couldn't be survivors, could it? Or was he just hallucinating? He needed to get out of this castle so much, that his mind was playing tricks on him, making him believe there was hope of escaping.

But as the voices grew louder, and the sounds of running footsteps were heard, he thought otherwise. He could barely decipher two silhouettes through the grey mist. His heart jumped in his throat, when he thought they were creatures. But, he was able to interpret what they were saying.

"Hey, hello?! Is anyone alive in there?"

Wait, he recognized that voice. It was Sergeant Mullins.

He murmured with a ray of hope, "Survivors?" He leaped off the chopper and met Ray and Mullins halfway.

* * *

For once, Mullins smiled in relief as he spread his arms over Ray and Plisskin's shoulders. He was still breathing heavily, but the only thing he cared about now was getting home.

As they walked inside, they stepped around the dead bodies, suddenly used to seeing so much. They inspected the damage done to the chopper, wondering if their luck had really run out.

Plisskin dressed Mullins' bullet wound with a wrapping bandage. The shock of seeing all the collateral damage and blood, and the pilot still alive shocked him too much for him to feel any more pain. Mullins noticed the body covered in a blanket. Words escaped his lips instinctively. "What the hell happened here?"

Plisskin sighed, "Jason didn't make it." The volume in his voice held a slight sorrowful tone behind his words. He sounded like he'd been through a lot. "No way am I leaving him here, though."

Mullins felt his grief as if it latched onto him like a parasite. "I'm sorry."

A tense silence settled between the groups. All this hell of running, blood, and near-death, they'd been relieved to finally find a chopper to escape. The pilot was here, now what? Ray, broke the silence, and asked, "So… Does this thing still work?"

Over his shoulder, Plisskin gave the controls a long, doubtful look. "Barley," He replied plainly.

Ray realized what he meant, and his shoulders slumped. "So we're stuck?"

Plisskin blinked. "Can't say," He knew there was a small chance, but he didn't want to get Ray's hopes up, "Working on it. Think there's something wrong with the wiring. Might be a little while before we fire up the engines, though."

The pilot was here, but the chopper was busted, now what? Did they have to wait for Boomer and the others? Were they even alive?

* * *

Boomer was already out of breath, terribly drained of energy and adrenaline, and his eyes were red and weary. Still, one look at the all-consuming mist, and he forced his feet to run. Whatever that black mist was, they knew better than to stop and find out. The mist devoured everything in sight, and the courtyard ground was caving in behind them. The biggest question spinning around their minds was: How long could they keep running?

He eyed Roberts who was running at his side. He shot Boomer a look of bated breath, as if he expected him to get them out of this mess. No matter how many times Boomer denied it, he knew this was one exception when he couldn't.

When hope seemed to abandon them completely, Boomer saw a dim red light far ahead of them. A black silhouette was slowly emerging from the fog, and they recognized it all too easily.

"A chopper!" He shouted to Roberts over the rumbling of the darkness.

Roberts saw their ticket of escape and fired two bullets at the mist behind them, keeping the darkness as far away from them as possible. He was doing a lousy job at it.

* * *

Plisskin flinched at the sound. "Gunshots?"

"Boomer?" Mullins said, straining his neck to get a view of outside the door. Ray ran outside the chopper.

"They fucking made it?" Ray heard Mullins' voice as he found Boomer and Roberts round a corner, running in frenzy. He sprinted to them with a relieved expression, but they were shouting something at him. His expression altered and he stopped short when he saw the darkness spiraling towards them.

Boomer pushed past Ray swung inside the chopper and scanned at whoever he had left. Two privates, Mullins, and the pilot. Wait, Mullins?! He thought they lost him in the cave.

Focusing on the situation at hand, Boomer immediately started firing orders, not wanting to waste time. "Pilot, whatever you're doing, do it faster."

Plisskin got up instantly and did his best to repair the chopper, knowing whatever the situation was, it was urgent.

Boomer turned and without wasting breath, he directed his first words to the Sergeant, "Mullins, it's great to have you back. Get up here and guard this post."

Ray backed up into the chopper, unable to take his intent gaze off the darkness. The chances of survival and death balanced the scale, making them both seem utterly impossible.

Plisskin sneaked a look back out the door. He wished he hadn't when he saw the black mist growing bigger in size and thundering their way. It sped up his pace, anyway.

A low, rumbling sound dominated the castle, and one of the walls burst open and a flood of Creatures tumbled out, staggering and jostling in hurried, disorganized ranks. There was no hiding this time.

"Freaks!" Mullins shouted, rage threading his voice. As if the darkness wasn't enough.

They fired numerous series of rounds at the Creatures and flying Creatures that now darkened the sky with the blackness of their wings. They were surrounded, and the chances of survival were slim, but determination burned in their eyes. They never showed the slightest sign of terror, or fear.

The chopper's blades slowly began to spin, and the engine roared to life as the darkness grew closer. Plisskin re-checked the controls to make sure everything was working, in the least. "Get in!" He shouted to them. They jumped back inside the chopper. The darkness rolled over and the ground gave in, but the helicopter made it airborne.

Mullins screamed in rage as he fired the last of his rounds at the flying Creatures.

Just when things couldn't possible get worse, a shadow swept over the chopper, and a new creature, the dragon, ascended from the black-filled darkness that used to be the ground. It's body was that of a snake's and it's glowing, menacing eyes seemed to burst with power. Spiraled horns on the side of it's head gave the beast a terrifying, yet mesmerizing figure.

Plisskin fell to the ground- with a grunt. He stared in shock at the ancient monster. Neither Ray could take his eyes off the being.

Boomer fired bullet after bullet at a flying Creature that got too close not to threaten to crash the chopper, feeding his desire to kill, as a soldier. Its wings flew up in the air as it's lifeless body fell to the never-ending darkness. If these bastards thought they were going to stop them, they were wrong.

The dragon outstretched itself as far as its body could go, and tried to snap at the chopper, but only got a mouthful of flying creatures. It tried to snap at them again, but the helicopter was too far out of reach. Against all odds, the dragon showed no more interest in the chopper or the escapees anymore. It descended back into it's dark home. The chopper slightly tilted to the side to gain more speed, and rain dropped sluggishly to the ground.

They left that evil living hell behind them.

* * *

The thick dew that hung in the air gave the mist a heavier appearance, and thunder reeled in the distance overhead, as lightning ignited the gray clouds.

The altar room seemed to bring back a rush of memories from the earliest situation. The General's presence on the top of the altar still loitered in the air. However, Etrius' presence was gone, and so was his body.

* * *

**-Leave a review if you'd please :)**


	13. Chapter 12- A Sudden Return

"Damn it, Pilot! I thought you said you had those fucking controls repaired!" Boomer shouted at the top of his lungs over the roaring of the helicopter engine. Plisskin rapidly made extra repairs while simultaneously flying the chopper. "Well, sorry if I was only given seconds for repairs!" Boomer swore under his breath, and turned to the remaining survivors. Mullins was firing countless rounds at the two winged creatures outside the chopper. His eyes grew red from exhaustion. "DIE MOTHERFUCKER, DIE!" Beside him, were Ray and Roberts who were also fearfully opening fire.

One of the flying creatures' body-slammed into the chopper's side, causing it to veer off balance. Boomer stumbled back, and his shoulder hit a wall. He ignored the throbbing that pounded down his arm, and reloaded the shotgun. Plisskin managed to get back on course, but the chopper was shaking from the damage.

Boomer pushed Roberts out of the way, aimed, and let off a bullet into one of the flying creatures' wings. The creature spiraled to the ground, rapidly vaulting its wings in a failed attempt to remain inflight. It hit the ground far below them with a soundless _thump_, throwing out a cloud of dust.

But something was wrong. Where was the second flying creature? Mullins noticed this as well. "Where's-?" As if on cue, the creature slammed itself onto the chopper from behind. Everyone fell back from the impact.

The sound of a dying engine was heard.

"That's not good." Ray muttered.

Boomer looked back outside at the flapping black wings. "Son of a-!" He threw himself back to the door, instantaneously firing at it. He unclipped and threw a grenade from his belt at the creature. The grenade blasted on impact, soaking the chopper with red liquid and gore.

"The base is coming into view!" Plisskin shouted.

Boomer made his way to the cockpit, grabbing seats to keep his balance. He peered through the shattered glass and made out the outline of the Base's buildings and the blue shimmering light of the portal. Hope was moments away, but the chopper's engine was dying faster.

"Are we even going to make it?" Roberts asked with a long, doubtful look.

Boomer glared at his remark. "Don't even think shit like that! We'll make it!" Although his words were trying to sound uplifting, he was having doubts himself. He gritted his teeth to battle the thoughts of the consequences of what might happen if they didn't. The sound of the failing engine sent reinforcing fears in his thoughts.

Smoke rose from the engine that sputtered and rattled. Meters vibrated and shook, as their numbers dropped. Loud beeping and alarms blared, and red lights flashed throughout the cockpit. Plisskin grumbled, rapidly pressing buttons and twisting knobs in failed attempts to keep the chopper on high. "There was a massive oil leak while the chopper was lying in the courtyard. We're completely out of fuel."

"And there's nothing you can do?" Boomer asked while looking around the copter, "Isn't there extra fuel somewhere?"

"Aircrafts never come with extra fuel, anymore. Not while were in the middle of a resource war!" Plisskin replied, not taking his eyes or hands off the controls.

Suddenly, a loud _thunk_ caught everyone's attention.

"The fuck was that?" Mullins asked, eyeing behind him.

Plisskin peered into the rearview mirror. "Shit, the tail fell off. I can't fly straight." Plisskin replied as the chopper lost almost all balance. "But, we're nearing the base." The beeping quickened and Plisskin's heart dropped to its lowest level. "Grab onto something!"

Finding the biggest object nearest to him, Mullins leaned against the back of a seat. Ray and Roberts clung onto the handle. Boomer held onto the pilot's seat.

The chopper's nose tipped downward, and the ground rushed up to meet them. Plisskin splayed one hand on the dashboard, the other in front of him, trying to stop the inevitable.

The chopper collided with the helipad.

* * *

A sharp ringing lingered in Boomer's ears, and black tinged the edges of his vision. Shards of glass littered inside and outside the chopper from the broken window. It only took him a moment to realize he was on his knees, still holding onto the pilot's seat. His breathing was heavy, and his pulse raced. Sweat and blood matted his tan hair.

He tried standing up, only to fall back to his knees. The world around him spun. He turned to see Mullins still standing, leaning against the back seat. It was a mystery as to how Mullins could be trapped inside an evil castle, take a bullet wound, endure a chopper crash, and still stand. Beside them, Ray and Roberts had fallen to the floor, eyes wide in shock, and breathing shallow.

Boomer forced himself to his feet, and faced Plisskin, who was hanging down from his seat. The seatbelt had latched onto his chest, saving him from certain death. He realized the entire chopper was dark.

He turned to the door, which was now forced closed from the crash. Coughing from the smoking engine, he brought his foot up, kicked off the barricade, and stumbled out. He realized half of the facility was surrounding the chopper in as much confusion as them. Boomer glared at one specific person in the large crowd.

The General's eyes seemed to slice through all the distraction, staring straight at him, and both their eyes darkened at the sight of each other. The General reluctantly strolled to the crashed chopper, a medical team rushing past him.

In seconds, The General was standing right in front of Boomer. Boomer's arms were crossed, revealing his muscular build, while The General stood straight, and narrow. "I see you've made it back."

Boomer only grunted, and his eyes scanned the crowd. "Where's Beecher?"

The General's blood froze. Shit, what should he tell him? That he stuck him in solitary confinement? Yeah, right. "He didn't make it out." He blurted.

Boomer blinked and stared at him, as if he hadn't heard correctly. "What?"

The General sighed, and looked at his feet to make the situation seem more real. "He was killed in a helicopter crash on our way out of the courtyard."

Boomer didn't stop staring at him._ Something's not right_.

The General turned, and gestured to Boomer. "Follow me."

Boomer looked back at his teammates once more. He saw Mullins being carried out on a stretcher. Ray and Roberts were sitting at the foot of the door, with their wounds being dressed. He saw Plisskin being dragged out, unconscious. After everything that's happened, Boomer surely expected himself to be jaded.

Tearing his haze away from the scene, he followed the General into the crowd, with hundreds of eyes watching him.

Once they were out of hearing range, Boomer said, "Beecher's still here, you ass."

The General didn't look back at him. "If he was still here, then he would've been at the chopper sooner. No one came out of that thing for a half hour." The General rounded a turn, shoved past a doorway, walked down a hall, and pushed open his office door. "Inside."

Boomer eyed him suspiciously. "Shouldn't we be-?"

"Now."

That one word got Boomer to obey, something he grew to hate.

The General closed and locked the door. Digging a cigar and lighter out of his pocket, he lit it, and inhaled the smoke. The General completely ignored Boomer's hate-glance.

"What really happened to Beecher?" Boomer demanded, hating The General for taking such a serious situation so carefree. "There's something you're not telling me."

The General fingered his cigar out of his mouth, and slumped lazily in his chair. "Boomer, what did you see in the altar room?" If The General thought he was going to let Boomer walk around the facility, knowing what he had done to Etrius, he was wrong.

Boomer's eyes darkened with venomous hatred. "Answer _my_ fucking question. Where's Beecher?" He didn't really care about screaming anymore.

The General slammed his fist on the desk. "I'll tell you where Beecher is as soon as you tell me what you saw in the altar room." He said each word separately, as if talking to a robot. Boomer crossed arms and went deathly still. _What's so important about what I saw in the altar?_ The General was hiding something.

Boomer summed everything up, isolating the details. "We walked inside the altar room, you and Etrius walked to the top of the altar, and the Doctor was freaking out. The doors closed, we got attacked, and escaped." Boomer glared at The General in expectation, but no avail.

"What else did you see? What did you hear?"

"Shit, do I have to tell you everything? That was all I saw-" Boomer paused. He suddenly remembered the gunshot. Lloyd and The General at a standstill. Beecher climbing the altar, and his words, dripping malice, _Lloyd, stop him!_

The General noticed his hesitation. "And?"

Boomer decided not to say anything. What would The General do if he did? The General could've shot Etrius, but there were still doubts. Why? What caused him to do it? And why at the third castle, in the altar room, where the power source is…?

Boomer changed his direction of words. "And, what? That's it. What else do you expect me to know?" Boomer didn't relax his posture, and stepped forward. "I've answered your question. Now answer mine."

The General stared at Boomer for a bit before emerging from behind his desk. He stood, inches away from Boomer. He could feel the hatred swelling through him like a magnet. It hurt with rage just looking at his face of bitchiness.

"Beecher is dead," The General growled. "Deal with it."

* * *

Mullins wavered in a world between consciousness and unconsciousness. Nothing but darkness and shadows lay ahead his vision. He gasped when he looked down at his hands, and noticed none, same with his body. As he peered ahead, he noticed a small light emitting from an archway.

Where was he? What was he doing there? He couldn't reach the memories. It was like something was there, but out of his reach. The light was beginning to grow wider, and he realized it was moving towards him. The archway opened up to…

Earth.

Destroyed.

People were running and screaming. Men, woman, and children were running for their most valued lives. The sky had darkened, and the streets smelled of burning blood. Invading the humans were… the creatures from the castle?

Powerful words echoed either in the distance, or in his mind. "**You woke me out of my secret grave. You let your pretty world in**."

Even more advanced creatures poured in through a glowing blue light. Flying demons, muscular beings, and others he'd never seen before invaded the corrupted planet. "**I will remove the error of man**."

Soldiers, troops, and armies desperately tried fighting back, but in a matter of seconds, the creatures descended over them like a black cloud, chopping them down as if they were nothing more than weeds. "**Chaos will entwine on defenseless soil**."

Mullins stared at the horrific scene, wishing the voice would fade from existence. What was he being shown? The resource war? A dimensional war? A war that could end life on planet Earth as we know it?

Mullins tried stepping back and running from the terrifying vision, but he had no body to. "No," He murmured.

"**I need you, and you need me. You let your pretty world in.**

** I will remove the error of man. It does not get simpler than that.**

** You woke me out of my secret grave. You've taken me to your world.**"

"No…" How could he have been so blind?

"**NOW RELEASE ME, HUMAN**."

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

* * *

Mullins woke up with a start, adrenaline coursing through his body. He sat upright, but a tangled mass of wires sat on his chest. He scanned the infirmary room, unable to hear the voice anymore. Good. At least he could breathe easily, and see his body again. He eyed the gunshot wound, which was now dressed in white cloth bandages. The beeping machinery of heart and pulse monitors were heard and the smell of medicine filled his nose with an alcoholic scent.

Grumbling, Mullins slumped back down, the thin sheets outlining his body form. Questions came rushing back. What was with that dream? That voice? Why did it sound so familiar? _I need you, and you need me. Now, take me to your world, Human_. Wait, those were the words he'd heard inside the castle before Ray shot him. What did that have to do with this? He only hoped it was just a nightmare.

The sound of a door swinging open brought his attention back to reality. Boomer filled the doorway, and he closed the door behind him, taking one look back outside, as if to make sure he wasn't being followed. He turned to Mullins. "It's about time you're up."

Mullins' eyes narrowed. He realized he didn't have his helmet and visor on. He looked to see it resting on the table next to the bed. "What's going on? I need an update about the power source."

Boomer ran his right hand over his left's knuckles with an irritated expression. "The General hasn't informed any of us about the source. I get the feeling something's wrong." The word _General_ tasted like bile in his mouth.

"That piece of shit left us behind. He grabbed the artifact, and didn't tell anyone else about it. How could something not be wrong?" Mullins shot back, suddenly remembering everything that ass had done.

"No. The General told me Beecher died on the way out," His eyes grew distant, as if trying to see something out of his line of vision. "I don't know whether to believe him, or not. But then, if Beecher was alive, why isn't he here?"

Boomer strolled over, grabbed a chair and sat down. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he didn't smell like blood or sweat anymore. His eyes however, were still red from fatigue.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he's got more hidden shit behind his back." Mullins added, staring at his gunshot wound. Continuous pain scorched through his entire arm, but it was nothing compared to his searing hatred. His hand curled into a fist. "So what do you think he's doing?"

"Whatever it is he's hiding, it looks like something that could concern more than just the Elite Team. Probably something that has to do with the resource war."

At that remark, Mullins froze, suddenly remembering the dreams. Death, destruction, war, blood.

"Even when I first came into the Castle Project, I knew he was hiding something." Boomer added before shaking his head. "I have no idea what it is. But, I'm going to find out."

* * *

As the General walked the hallways, he couldn't stop his thoughts from spinning. He had to do something about Boomer and Beecher. Beecher knows about what he did to Etrius, and Boomer knows that he's hiding something. How long before he finds out?

He pressed his forehead templates in stress. He tried to calm down, but he needed to think of something, and fast. He needed to talk to Beecher once more. _He_ was mad at the General for doing something he had no choice over. He just hoped that when he showed up, Beecher wouldn't knock him to the ground.

As he walked the halls, he could feel hundreds of soldier's eyes staring at him in confusion. They were wondering what the General was going to do now that the survivors are back, and he had the artifact. Nobody but the General, Romanov, and the superiors knew that the orb was hollow. His superior told him to find the power, but where would they start? What if the orb had been empty this whole time?

He wiped these questions from his thoughts. He was given an order, and he needed to follow it. They needed to go back to the castle.

As he neared the confinement building, a guard saluted him at the front gates before they swung open. The confinement building stood at least 5 stories high, and was surrounded by a metal barbed wire fence. Two towering columns of stone stood on either side of the metal double gates.

The General walked through, trying to focus on what he was going to tell Beecher. He couldn't tell him that Boomer was alive. If he did, then Beecher would mistrust the General even more, considering that he wouldn't let him out. But if he were to set Beecher free, he had to make him swear that he couldn't say anything about Etrius.

The General let his mind lead his feet to Beecher's cell. He dug his keycard out of his pocket and swiped it through the scanner.

He braced himself.

* * *

**-... Review? I think I messed up the pacing again -_-**


	14. Chapter 13- A Labyrinth of Lies

**-Woo, chapter 13. You might want to listen to "Nox Arcana - Castle of Nightmares" while reading this chapter, or at least the first part. Trust me, the music is epic. Plus, one of my friends showed me to a website called "TheWriter' ". It's extreemly helpful during the writing process, thanks, Yelena! :)**

* * *

Lloyd hacked and slashed his way through the horde of blood-thirsty creatures, darting his eyes frantically in search of a promising exit. He had no idea how long he'd been trapped inside the altar, and surrounded by the creatures, but his mind couldn't move past one thought:_ Escape_.

But escape seemed impossible. He searched every corner of the altar room, but the doors were locked, and the only one open was the archway that had been blasted open by Boomer. But the large crack that formed separated him from it. Sweat and blood matted his hair, and he forced himself to keep his breathing steady.

His only option left was to climb the altar pyramid.

Grabbing creatures by their heads and slicing them off, he ran to the pyramid. He locked his gaze on the top of the altar, which in turn, let him trip over a dead creature's body. He cried out as the ground rushed up to meet him, and he tumbled down the stairs. His shoulder painfully hit the altar base floor, and his sword flew out of his hands. He glanced over his shoulder with a painful kink in his neck. The hordes of creatures were following him down the first set of stone stairs, ten feet away.

Lloyd swore and searched frantically for his fallen sabre. He spotted it behind him, closer to the crowd of creatures. Scrambling to his feet, he dived to the weapon, but a creature managed to snatch the blade first. Lloyd grasped the handle and flung it against the creature's arm, chopping it off. Before he could react, the mass of creatures circled him. One of them managed to grab his neck, but he kicked off it in the chest. Another one snatched his right arm, baring it's teeth. Another seized his left, immobilizing him.

The creature sank it's teeth into his bicep, shredding and gashing at the flesh. Lloyd managed to pull away, but his arm was throbbing from the creature's bite. Ignoring the ache, Lloyd two-handed his sabre and lashed out at the creatures with all his strength, climbing his way to the top of the altar, his eyes pained, and his expression determined.

Nearing the top of the altar, Lloyd noticed a dead soldier, the limbs slit from the torso, and a rifle lying next to it. Taking this to his advantage, Lloyd sheathed his sword and snatched up the rifle, shooting at the creatures that got too close to him. He clenched his teeth to battle the pain. A dull throbbing pounded in his head and the black tinged the edges of his vision. He wasn't sure if the creature's bite was deadly, or not. It was either die from the creatures, or die from the bite wound, now dripping blood and a white colored substance.

Lloyd managed to make it to the top of the altar, but he kept his eyes on the creatures, continuing to fire, until the rifle gave an unsettled _click_. Throwing it aside, he unsheathed his sabre, preparing for the horde. But against all odds, the creatures stopped moving, staring lifelessly ahead, as if looking for something lost.

Lloyd felt a foreign and unnerving presence in the air. The throbbing doubled, and he squeezed his eyes shut, only to be met by another's. "**Somewhere in your world, they tell you: This is what the people need**."

The words pounded their way inside Lloyd's thoughts, and the words still lingered with a violent tremble that sent chills down his spine. "What?" Lloyd felt the world spinning around him, and he kept his sabre raised shoulder-level, directing at shadows. "Who are you?"

"**They put all that shit on me and leave me here to bleed**." The words wrapped around him like a black ribbon, putting his teeth on edge. But there was a familiar ring in the tone that triggered his memory.

"Etrius?" Lloyd asked, spinning around. But he knew it was ridiculous. The place where he last saw Etrius was painted with blood, and Etrius wasn't there. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew Etrius must've had something to do with this-whatever it was. "Etrius, answer me!"

"**I need you, and you need me**."

The throbbing in his head grew stronger, until his vision began to seesaw in and out of focus. "Stop-" He fell to his knees, pressing his hands on his head and squeezing his eyes shut. An unfamiliar force wrapped around his brain, and he lost all feeling in his body. "Etrius, it's me, _Lloyd_!" But his voice grew into a prolonged, deep tremble that shook the altar. He couldn't control his thoughts, or movements, as if he were some kind of puppet.

When he opened his eyes again, an ethereal light glowed in the whites of his eyes.

"**Now take me to your world, human**."

* * *

"I'm not doing this fucking shit. Forget it." Beecher sneered at the General, who sat directly opposite to him of the table. They both sat in an isolated, white room. The only sign of any outside existence was the locked door and large, bullet proof window on one side of the room, although no one was watching them, and the recorder was off. Just the sights of the General made Beecher pull at his handcuffs under the table, feeling the need crawling over him like frost. The need to break out of them and break the General.

"You don't have much of a choice in this one, Beecher," The General replied, not taking his eyes off reading the folders in his hands. Beecher assumed he was distracting himself because he was too much of a bitch to look at him. "I am your Commanding Officer, and I'm ordering you to return on a mission to the Castle."

"I don't have to go if I don't want to. This is a free country." Beecher fired back.

"We're in another dimension."

"Does it matter?"

The General removed his gaze from the folders and stared at Beecher's eyes, burning with hatred. He knew that Beecher was going to continue resisting, and nothing he said was going to change his mind. The General cleared his throat, "Alright, look. When we retrieved the artifact-"

"And you shot Etrius." Beecher interrupted.

The General ignored him. "And brought it back, it was empty."

Beecher cursed himself for bringing his full attention to the General. Interrogation was one thing he expected from the General, but this was something else. When Beecher didn't respond, the General continued, "I spoke with the Doctor. He said that whatever power inside the artifact was transferred to something else," He braced himself for what was to come next, "Transferred to Etrius."

Beecher remained deathly still. The only sign of life inside of his empty form was his eyes. They seemed to burn straight into the General's, making sure he was speaking the truth for once. He remembered Etrius' body lying cold on the stone floor of the altar. Fallen, and lifeless. Shattering the silence, Beecher said, "Is this some bullshit your making up to convince me to go?"

"Beecher, mankind _needs_ that power," The General said, not having the slightest sense of impatience. He needed Beecher to come, no matter what the cost. "The Doc also said that the power transferred inside his body endured his death. He's still alive."

_Alive…? _The words burned their way down to Beecher's core. Fleet images of him reuniting with Etrius ran across his vision. If Etrius was alive, the empty hole inside of him would cease to exist. The path to liberation was standing inches away, but it was crawling with hatred, mistrust, and lies. Would he actually be willing to take that chance?

Beecher took one last look at the General, and a minor image of him extending an assisting hand flashed in his mind. Beecher felt like he was sinking in quicksand with seemingly no sign of escaping, and the General was the only source of hope that came with a powerful price. He sighed, and stared down at his handcuffs, coming to a decision.

"Yes sir."

* * *

Release never felt so good when someone could wander the corridors with their handcuffs off. Beecher rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had left scarred marks. Judging by the depth of the wounds, it would take more than just a "While" to heal.

The General had told him, just before he was released, that he could not tell anyone about his imprisonment. One answer could lead to another question, then another. Oh, he promised that he wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't want to destroy his "Generous image". But as he walked the corridors, he could feel the eyes of wandering soldiers glance at him, look away, and then back again in surprise. Who could blame them? No one's seen Beecher in what seemed like forever, and suddenly finding him walking the hallways is something strange to take in.

His mind wandered to Boomer, Lloyd, and Etrius. He watched with his own eyes, as each of his teammates were forsaken, one by one, leaving him to continue on a lone wolf. He rounded a corner. That familiar paining sensation ripping at his core made him want to just-

Against all odds, someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him under a set of stairs. He was shoved into a wall by someone he wasn't expecting. Someone who made him think he'd gone crazy.

"Boomer?"

Boomer's eyes burned with foreign ire, but soon dissipated into confusion at the sight of his teammate. "Beecher? I- I thought you were-"

"The General told you I was dead, didn't he?" The way he spoke made the General sound so predictable towards these kinds of situations. "Don't believe what he says anymore, and don't trust him with anything." Beecher made it look like he was keeping his word with the General about not telling anyone, but telling Boomer was something else.

Boomer let this sink in for a moment, then suddenly remembering that it was the General who left all his teammates behind. "I should've known better than to believe him. But I didn't see you in the facility."

"You'd be surprised that they actually built a confinement in this place."

"So that bastard stuck you in prison?"

"He thought I knew too much."

"His point?"

Beecher hesitated. Boomer had the right to know about what the General did to their team leader, and who he really was on the inside, but he couldn't just drop it on him. Sucking in a deep breath, he said, "What did the General ask you when you got back?"

Boomer groped around his memory for what the General was questioning about earlier. "Something about the altar room. He wanted to know if I saw anything suspicious."

"Predictable," It was obvious that the General wanted to make sure Boomer didn't know anything about what he did at the top of the altar. Boomer didn't stop staring at him. "What do you mean, '_predictable_'?"

Beecher didn't realize he was holding his breath. He let it out shakily, bracing himself.

* * *

Taking one more doubtful glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was following; the General let himself inside the research area. He easily spotted Romanov, sitting hunched over a research table clustered with tubes, notes, and equipment. None of the other scientists were working in the lab, so they didn't have to hear that the artifact was empty. He cleared his throat. "Dr. Romanov."

Dr. Romanov jumped at the sound of his voice. Bags of sleep deprivation darkened under his eyes. He hadn't slept in what seemed like forever, studying the orb's contents, trying desperately to find a small leftover source of power, anything. The only accomplishment was failure.

"General, I've looked it all over, and found nothing. It's empty, completely." Romanov was speaking so fast, it took him a minute to process his own words. Clearly, he drank coffee, lots of it.

"And it's why we've agreed to return to the castle. We can't afford to lose any more men inside that place, so I'm going to begin assembling the Elite Team. We'll return to the last place the power fell." He took a seat near the table, examining the orb closely.

"Yes, I've heard," Romanov replied, summarizing the General's earlier words. "The power transferred into Etrius' body, and he died as a result of the overdose."

The General nodded, pushing the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes. "And you've also agreed to come along with us once more."

"With the deal," Romanov said quickly, sudden images flashing through his mind. "I stay outside the altar room, and you'll follow my orders if anything threatening appears."

"I haven't forgotten," The General said, standing on his feet. "I'm gathering the men to prepare, and then we're on our way."

* * *

Hours later, Beecher and Boomer entered the designated chopper to find the General sitting at one of passenger seats, as if he's been waiting for hours. He stood up as soon as he saw Beecher and Boomer emerge into the chopper. He expected Boomer to pummel him after him after lying about Beecher, but he just pretended not to notice the General, as if he didn't exist. Beecher probably told him not to do anything.

The General decided to cover up the moment with one of his convincing discourses. "Men, the Mission's objective is to find the source of power-aka, Etrius-and return it untouched. There's no telling how many creatures are in the Castle, we won't be able to bring enough men with us anyhow. We're simple going in, getting the power, and getting the fuck back out. Anything else that moves, shoot it."

Beecher suddenly remembered Lloyd. The last moment he saw him in the altar room on the opposite side of the trench, moving out of possible reach. Lloyd had been able to slip out of tricky situations before, but what about this one? _'Shoot anything that moves', my ass._ He thought, fighting the urge to scream it out. He knew he needed to do something about the General for shooting Etrius, but he said he didn't have a choice. He could be lying, but Beecher wanted more information before he tried anything that would end up stupid.

It was at this time when Dr. Romanov stepped into the chopper, carrying the two books and the orb, which he tucked safely in his pocket. His once eager expression to explore something otherworldly now abandoned his face, replaced with grave eyes.

"Ready, doc?" The General asked, ready to give the pilot the order for takeoff.

A wilted nod was Romanov's only reply.

The chopper made a sudden lurch, and it ascended into the grey sky, flying in the direction of the Castle.

Hours passed, and the tension only grew stronger. What were they going to do once they arrived at the Castle? Would they get attacked again? Was Etrius even going to_ be_ there when they made it to the peak of the altar?

Boomer risked a glance the General, who was deep in a low conversation with Dr. Romanov. Beecher leaned in to Boomer's ear, and whispered, "Something's not right with him. When I give you the signal, hold him at gunpoint."

Boomer glanced at Romanov, and whispered back, "What about the doc?"

"Don't worry about him. He's going to be waiting at the entrance."

The General glanced at Beecher and Boomer, and they both looked opposite ways. The General resumed his conversation with Romanov and Boomer leaned to his left, whispering to Beecher, "So do you think Etrius really is where you last saw him?"

"Let's just hope so."

Boomer was anxious enough when the Castle began to faintly loom into view through the thick fog. He spotted the altar tower, centering the Castle's four turrets. He imagined Etrius' body lying cold on the stone floor of the altar, and immediately started thinking about Lloyd. Did he manage to escape the altar? All the doors were blocked off, and those creatures behind him looked pretty hungry.

Whether Lloyd escaped or not, or whether Etrius was still on the altar, both Boomer and Beecher prepared themselves for the blood shower.

"Uh, Sir?" The pilot muttered from the cockpit.

"What is it, Pilot?" The General stood up and made his way to the cockpit.

"I think you might want to have a look at this."

The General glanced out the helicopter window, and overlooked the courtyard… Which was no longer there. "What in the fuck happened to the courtyard?"

Boomer chose to remain silent. Romanov found whatever was going on to be interesting, and joined the General and Pilot in the cockpit. Beecher glanced out the window in the cockpit, and turned back to Boomer in question.

"Brace yourself. We got on the busted up chopper, being chased by some sort of black mist. The mist devoured the courtyard, and one of the dragons emerged from the hole where the courtyard was supposed to be."

Beecher wasn't entirely surprised. Beecher had seen enough shit happen inside the Castle for his unsurprised personality to kick in. Anyone could walk up to him, show them his arm cut clean off, and not get a reaction.

The General's voice was heard from the cockpit. "Whatever happened, we'll find somewhere else to land the chopper."

"The bridge seems eligible for landing." The pilot pointed at the bridge that connected with the altar tower.

"Then we'll be dropped off there." The General announced before each of them agreed.

The Pilot guided the chopper to the altar bridge, and landed gradually on the surface. The team waited for the spinning rotors to die down before they hopped off the chopper, and faced the altar tower. The General turned to the pilot before saluting. "Wait for us to come back. If you see anything strange, or if we don't come back after an hour, leave."

The pilot returned the salute as the team ventured to the altar room.

* * *

**- Leave a review please! :D**


	15. Chapter 14- A Castle of Nightmares

**A/N- *Celebrates over 3 new reviews* I've realized that the creative voice in the previous chapters were fading. I tried boosting it up a bit here, and I think I did a good job. Enjoy, and be sure to listen to some Audiomachine, Two Steps From Hell, or Nox Arcana for movie-novel effects.**

* * *

The cold air stung against Beecher's face, intensifying the grey atmosphere that backed up the Castle with an isolated feeling. A thick fog hung over the Castle, giving off an unwanted sensation. Beecher's hard-bitten features deciphered his preparedness for battle, and hatred for the General, as he grasped his sniper tighter in his firm grip. He turned to face Boomer, who returned the look with a nod that mingled with his hatred.

The altar turret seemed to overpower the leftover team, towering over their heads in a gesture for a rematch of shooting, blood, and loss. Boomer's breathing was steady, but his eyes moved with alert and retribution.

The whole time, Beecher couldn't stop thinking about what happened to Etrius—why it happened. There was no way the General could just shoot him like that; there had to be an explanation hiding behind the scenes. The idea of sudden betrayal seemed almost laughable.

He should've never trusted Etrius to climb the altar with the General alone. In his mind, he replayed the scene where he ran past the General, and made it to the top of the altar, staring at the ghastly scene. If only he made it there in time. If only he stopped the General from pulling the trigger, none of this would've happened. His patience to wait for answers was hanging by a thread. He no longer wanted to know why the General shot Etrius, but he _needed_ to know.

As they neared the altar entrance, each of them froze. The archways were no longer closed. The stones and rocks that originally blocked the exit were now gone. The team exchanged glances, assuming that might have been a trap that they were walking into.

The General gestured to the team to stay back, and he walked closer to the archway, picking up a stone with him. He tossed the stone inside and held his breath, as if waiting for the stone to burst into flames. When the archway didn't close, he cautiously stepped inside, and then gestured the elite team to follow him, save for Romanov, who made a deal to wait outside.

Reluctantly, Boomer and Beecher followed the General inside the altar room, littered with dead bodies of soldiers and creatures. Beecher gagged at the stench. The altar loomed into view, a large gray pyramid encased by a trench stairway with a shaft in the ceiling, shedding light on the peak of the altar from above.

The team stopped as they came across the trench that had formed before they left, separating Lloyd from any signs of escaping. "Looks like we're going to have to jump it." The General announced, scanning the trench left and right for any other sings of getting across. The team walked the verge of the trench, searching for the smallest space for them to jump.

Once they found the easiest area of the trench to leap, Boomer backed up a few feet, broke into a run, and leaped across the chasm. The ground rushed up to meet him as he hit the other side of the gap, landing on his hands and knees. The General was next to jump. He landed next to Boomer, stumbling to his knees before regaining his pose.

Beecher backed up, ran, and sprung power into his legs as the ground gave away beneath him, sniper grasped tightly in his arms. But his leap ran out short, and he barely made it. His hand hit the ledge, and his body dangled. Looking down, the darkness looked like a giant bowl of air. He felt his grip slipping, but Boomer caught hold of his wrist just as he was about to fall.

Boomer pulled him up, and they watched the General as he continued to the altar, without so much a glance back. Beecher couldn't believe he had the nerve to continue walking, when he was inches away from certain death. Raging lines were etched in Boomer's features as he moved towards the General. With a shake of his head, Beecher outstretched a hand in front of Boomer's chest, stopping him. Boomer let out a tuft of air from his nostrils in irritation, and loose strands of blonde hair fell over his eyes as he followed Beecher and the General down the first set of stairs.

As they ascended the second set of stairs, blood and gore began to paint the stone steps, sending a shiver down Boomer's spine. A limp corpse with the limbs slit from the torso came into view as they ascended the stairs. For a split second, Boomer thought of Etrius, but the body had the face covered by a helmet and visor, resembling a private. They continued ascending the stairs, not risking a second glance at the body as they passed by a fallen rifle.

The tension seemed to fill the altar room to the brim by the time they reached the peak of the altar, finding Etrius' body gone. Beecher blinked a few times. The message his eyes were given were clear-Etrius wasn't there-but he just couldn't process the situation. Boomer risked a glance around the altar room's darkness, but only shadows were there to keep him company. The General had said that Etrius was still alive, but where is he?

Beecher shot the General a menacing glare, the emotion burning in his eyes anything but serenity. "Are you satisfied?"

The General whirled to face Beecher, mildly shocked at what he was saying. "Excuse me, Soldier?"

"You've dug this hole of a problem, and tossed the shovel out of reach. Does this give you more of a reason to leave without a second glance, like last time?"

The General's eyes darkened with a threatening sentiment. "I'd watch my tongue, Soldier."

"Come to think of it," Beecher continued. "Those words Etrius said sounded serious. Is there a reason you would _lie to all of us_?" Beecher spoke the words as if covered in corrosive acid.

The General felt his hand itching to reach for his pistol, but he fought back the urge. "Son, I have no idea what you're talking-"

Beecher cut him off. "Is that reason why you're just a mere puppet against your 'bosses'?"

The General felt his patience snap like a twig. In one swift movement, he reached into his belt, produced his magnum, and aimed right between Beecher's eyes, same as he did with Etrius. His finger was inches away from the trigger, but Beecher showed no sign of fear.

Without either of them noticing, a black mist crawled it's way up from the base of the altar, circulating the pyramid. Boomer was the only one who noticed it, looking around the altar with a tense expression.

"Open your mouth again, Beecher. I will put you down if you do." The General glared right into Beecher's eyes, knowing they were sharing the same emotion. Neither Beecher nor the General paid any attention to the black fog.

Beecher scoffed. "You don't have the nerve."

The General pulled the trigger.

Boomer yanked his hand away, firing the bullet into the distance. The gunshot rang out against the walls. "Stop this bullshit, both of you! The last thing we want is to kill each other. In case you haven't noticed, we've got ourselves a situation." With a flick of his head, Boomer gestured to the darkness spiraling it's way up the altar, sourcing from the trenches.

"**You dare step foot in my kingdom again**?" A deep, almost incomprehensible voice boomed within the altar's circular walls. The team froze, each of them sharing the same thought. Did they just hear that? How could three people have the same hallucinations?

Beecher glanced around the altar room, but only the darkness was there to keep them company. "Etrius?" It had to be him.

"Etrius, I know it's you! Get your ass down here!" The General demanded, his order ringing out in echoes around the altar. Glowing eyes began to form in the black mist as it spiraled it's way up the altar pyramid even faster.

"**You haven't learned from your repercussions. Surrender your world for domination.**" The voice bellowed again, completely ignoring the General's commands.

"Etrius, this isn't a game! I said: _Show yourself_!" The General fired back.

Beecher noticed the darkness crawling towards them, and he rapidly ran through thoughts in his mind for a plan, but found none. Icy panic settled over him like frost, and he knew it was either get Etrius, or get killed.

"Etrius, just do it!" Beecher shouted.

Against all odds, the darkness slowed to a near stop. Everything around them looked like it was set in slow-motion. The voice sounded again, but more in a more familiar tone that seemed to slow Beecher and Boomer's racing pulse. Etrius.

"…Beecher?"

Black mist formed from thin air in front of the group, taking the form of a human, and as it disintegrated back into nothing, Etrius was standing before them. "What are you doing here?" His gaze shifted to Boomer. "You should've stayed out when you had the chance. Leave before it's too late."

Beecher was very aware of the sizzling white light in his eyes that ringed in his iris with a violent glow. There was Etrius-standing right in front of him-real, animated, and alive.

The General stepped fourth, clenching the orb firmly in his grip. "Etrius, you put that damn power back in the orb! Don't you know mankind needs it?"

Etrius turned to the General, enraging lines forming in his features. "You son of a bitch, you lied to us! I saw that little meeting you had with your 'superiors'."

Boomer instantly became interested in whatever it was going on. "Etrius, what are you talking about?"

Etrius turned to face him. "This bastard hasn't told you everything."

The General's blood froze. He couldn't allow Etrius to expose him now that he was so close. Before he could do anything to stop Etrius, the truth came bursting out.

"He just wants the power for himself. He and his superiors are all in on it." Etrius let off the truth as if he'd just put down a heavy weight. After finding out what the General was really doing, it felt good to let the truth come out after waiting so long with no seeming hope. He turned to the General. "But don't believe what they tell you. They said that they'll share the power with you, but they're just using you as a puppet so they can have the power for themselves."

The General was stunned. First, he assumed that the General was betraying them. Then, he came up with some bullshit that his superiors were lying to him. But telling the elite team his plans was something else. Boomer and Beecher whirled to face the General with shock and disbelief etched into their faces. The General shifted uncomfortably, knowing well that they were going to do something about it once they got back.

"Wait, what about Lloyd?" Boomer suddenly asked. All eyes turned to Boomer, then Etrius, who stared at Boomer in confusion.

"Lloyd? What about him?" Etrius asked.

"He never made it out. I thought you'd know what happened to him."

Etrius froze. "Lloyd never made it out?" Suddenly, Etrius let out a rough cry, and he brought a hand to his head, as if he had a headache. Dizziness began to overpower him, and purple dots danced across his vision. A loathing presence crept up to his thoughts, and whispers began to chant, emitting from the black mist that now began to spiral back into motion. He looked back at Beecher in particular. "I don't have much time. You need to get out of here, now. It wants nothing but to consume our world."

The group moved back, but the altar ended there, encased by the swirling darkness. The General said, "Etrius, what the fuck are you saying now?" Etrius fell to his knees, clutching his stomach in apprehension. "Get- away-" His eyes suddenly took on a heavy glow, and the voice sounded again. "**You will never escape, Mortals.**"

The altar began to tremble, shaking lose stones from the ceiling, and creating more light shafts. Creature's forms began to appear in the black mist, crawling up on all fours to the peak of the altar.

"ETRIUS, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" The General shouted over the loud trembling that violently shook the altar room, as if an earthquake.

"**_Never_**."

The glowing whites in his eyes dissipated, leaving only a small trace of light that sizzled under the surface of his eyes. Etrius fell to his knees, then his body. Creatures began to emerge from the darkness, looking even more starved than the last time they saw them.

Beecher shouted, "What the hell just happened?"

"We've got bigger things to worry about," The General said, eyeing the Creatures and the black mist, wondering how they would be able to escape. He turned to Boomer. "Think you can get him out of here in one piece?"

Instead of responding, Boomer grabbed Etrius and slung his arm over his shoulders. They each turned to the darkness, knowing well that they couldn't get through it and back out of harm's way. Creatures were snarling, and running up behind them. They had no choice.

They ran into the mist.

Pure black encased Beecher's body like a dark blanket. He could barely see his hands; much less his legs, and tripped on the way down more than once. Whispers resonated from the shadows like a growl. He turned to Boomer and the General, but it did no good. Solid blackness encased his vision. But he kept running.

It was when he reached the base of the altar, when the black mist began to dissipate, and his vision cleared into focus. Boomer was running just ahead of him, transferring an unconscious Etrius along with him. Behind Beecher, the General just ran clear of the mist, and was firing with one hand at the creatures behind him.

The team reached to the top of the second set of stairs, coming face to face with a horde of creatures climbing down the walls like ants to block the open exits. The General called out to Romanov, but got no response. Beecher half hoped that he made it to the chopper like the last time they were here.

The team made a mad dash for the exit they originally came through, a barricade slowly moving down to block it. Beecher raised his sniper, firing headshots, while simultaneously running desperately to the exit. Realizing he needed more rapid weaponry, Beecher slung his sniper around his shoulder and produced a rifle suspended over his back, firing at creatures that dared to get too close.

The archways were closing. Creatures were pouring in. Escape was moments away. Boomer was the first one to duck under the descending barricade, bringing Etrius with him. Beecher dived to reach outside. The General had to fall to his back and slide. The archway closed shut.

The team barely had time to catch their breaths, as they looked to the skies, watching flying freaks blacken the sky with their wings. The chopper was on the opposite side of the stone bridge, but flying creatures were dropping in front of them, prepared for another fight.

A fiery pain scorched up Boomer's legs, and he nearly dropped the unconscious Etrius. He'd carried bodies before in wrestling matches, but never while running from hordes of zombies and demons. It looked so easy in the movies. The General fired round after round into flying freaks, only managing to get a few of them spiraling to the ground.

Beecher distinctly interpreted a silhouette against the red light of the chopper, waving to them to hurry up. Beecher didn't care whether it was Romanov or the Pilot waving to them; He just wanted to get the hell out of there.

Boomer managed to reach the chopper first, setting Etrius on the back seat, just as it was lifting off. Beecher and the General ran at the same pace, their only thoughts focused on getting to the chopper. They managed to grab hold of the bottom doorframe, the chopper now far off the ground.

Beecher glanced down and swallowed a heavy gulp. From where he was at, everything below him just looked like a giant bowl of air. He felt his grip slipping, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer, with all the weight pulling him down.

He lost his hold. Boomer caught him just as he was about to fall. He pulled him inside the chopper. He realized the General was still holding on for his life. Boomer smiled on the inside, feeling the vengeance for what he did earlier flowing through him. Even so, Boomer grabbed the General by his wrists, pulling him in as well.

Something large slammed against the side of the chopper, and Boomer realized it was one of the flying freaks. "Stay with Etrius. I'll be back." He reloaded and kept his back placed against the wall of the chopper. He revealed half of himself only to fire at the flying creatures.

Beecher kneeled next to Etrius, his shallow breathing the only sign of movement in his lifeless body. He could barely hear Boomer's gunshots in the background, everything else seemed to darken. The General approached, holding the orb securely in his grip. "There's no way we can just use the orb to transfer the power."

Despite hatred, Beecher responded. "How's it to be done?"

"We'll have some surgeons work on him, and get the scientists to find a way to transfer the power. As for now, let's just get back to base in one piece."

Boomer eventually became satisfied with his kills and strolled to where Etrius lay, taking a look at him before slumping in his seat. The General retired to another seat, arms and legs killing him. Beecher however, couldn't take his eyes off Etrius. Two thoughts continued running through his mind: If the power had enough energy to bring someone back to life, imagine what it could be capable of doing to Earth. One moment, Beecher thought his only trustworthy friend was dead, and the next minute, he was alive, holding the most valued source in known history.

The dead flame inside of him had flickered back to life. But this was far from "over".


	16. Chapter 15- A Battle at the Core

**-A/N: SO sorry this took so long to publish -_- Well anyway, please read, review, and most importantly; enjoy the chapter~**

* * *

Sleep seemed impossible, especially when Beecher tried to get lost inside a dark tunnel of a dream. One moment he'd feel the dream pulling him down a dark hole, and then his deep focus would be crumbled the next. The rest of the facility had gone to sleep hours ago, but Beecher felt as if alertness were punching him in the face. He continued tossing and turning, throwing commands at his mind to find rest, but soon found it useless to even try.

Staring cross-eyed at the ceiling, Beecher's mind continued replaying the scenes inside the Castle, blood and evil creatures the main indications. But most of all, he couldn't let go of the words that Etrius had said to them earlier. If the General and the superiors wanted the power for themselves, there had to be a plausible reason hiding behind the utter confusion. There was no way in hell that they could just take the power from Mankind, leaving them with no hope.

But he decided to remain silent about it. He knew better than to try and take on the General, when he had a whole army of soldiers loyal to him the most. He needed to think this through. But despite this, he also couldn't help but continue thinking about Lloyd. He never made it out of the Castle and they never saw him in the altar. Was he even still alive?

The proximity of the memories and thoughts pulled him farther from gaining focus on sleep. He knew he needed to do something about it, but his main focuses were on Etrius. Holding his breath, he threw the sheets off him and let his feet dangle from the edge of the bed before slipping off.

After pulling on a dark camouflage shirt over his tank top, pants and combat boots, he slipped out the door, trying to be at his quietest when he past Boomer's room.

Etrius had been taken to the infirmary directly after they had returned to base and Beecher hadn't seen him since. The doctors hadn't begun working on him, so maybe he could just walk by the room. He anticipated that it would increase his chances of falling asleep.

The hallways were dark, but outside was a void atmosphere of gray, ashen fog that hung in the air with an ominous sensation. Beecher looked back with a long, doubtful gaze once more to make sure he wasn't being followed. When he was certain he was alone, he tramped out of the corridors and out into the frostbitten open, relying on memory to lead him to the infirmary.

The facility was vacant. The only signs of life came from the cold whistling winds that stung his ears and pricked his skin like quivering needles. A majority of the building's lights were off, indicating that everyone was asleep, which was a good thing. No one would see him in the hallways and report it back to the General.

Beecher's feet had led him to the infirmary faster than he had expected. He entered the building, gave the corridor a quick double-check to make sure there were no cameras, then found his way to Etrius' reserved clinic room.

* * *

Etrius' footsteps echoed down the dark, puzzling maze spread out ahead of him, spawning as much confusion circling around in his head. He tried to remember what had happened and how he ended up here, but every time he grasped hold of the memories, they just drained right through his grip, as if made of sand. A haunting presence settled over him like frost. He got the idea that he wasn't alone. Frost nipped at his skin and he saw that he was still wearing his camouflage shirt and pant with combat boots. Was he still inside the Castle? He had to be; how else would it explain the stone walls and grey atmosphere? But he passed out before he could realize what happened to Beecher and the others.

He glanced behind him, but a thick wall of grey stone blocked the path, leaving the only option to move forward. Whatever; he needed to find a way out of here, anyway. As he walked the stone maze's towering corridors, he moved deeper into his own memory, trying to find a source of how he'd gotten there, but found none.

Then, his ears picked up a low sound; another set of footsteps, and it was getting closer. He stopped moving; just to be sure it wasn't his _own_ footsteps he was hearing. The footsteps continued, coming straight for him from behind.

He ran.

Etrius' breathing was heavy, but the adrenaline rushing through his legs was stronger. He made sharp turns, left and right, not paying attention to where he was, for his main focus was on outrunning the evil presence. His foot slipped and he lost his balance, but he continued running. He thrashed his arms and legs, but for some reason, he was being slowed down by some invisible force. As if some magnetic power were trying to hold him back from behind. A wave of nausea rippled through him.

He made a right turn in hopes of shaking off the evil presence, but then froze at what he saw in front of him. Dead end. He glanced back behind him, but the footsteps had stopped and the evil presence dissipated.

Etrius panted uncontrollably, his breathe visible in the air before it vaporized back into nothing.

Trying to retain a normal heartbeat, he thumbed through his memories, trying to grasp anything that could lead him close to an answer as to how he'd gotten here. He sluggishly walked in reverse, keeping his eyes ahead of him before something hit his back, and raspy breathing crawled down the nape of his neck. He whirled around to see… A mirror image of himself with glowing eyes.

Etrius uttered a rough cry of shock, stumbling back. The image continued to stare at him, a ringing white glow sizzling beneath the surface of it's eyes that lingered in Etrius' vision, even after he closed his eyes. Holding his breath, Etrius blinked several times but the image didn't disappear from his vision. He swallowed down panic, accepting the fact that this _thing_ wasn't a hallucination. "Where am I?" He demanded, keeping his tone sharp in authority.

The figure didn't reply. Instead, it curved it's lips, showing off sharp teeth that gleamed in the darkness with it's eyes.

"**This body and this world are now mine.**"

Since it didn't exactly answer Etrius' question, he asked another. "Who are you?"

"**I am war, pain. Call me the Earth defiled.**" That certain voice… In the altar… He began piecing the puzzle together himself. Was the parasite inside him?

* * *

Beecher didn't know how long he was sitting there until he heard single footsteps resounding from outside, in the hallway, followed by the sound of the infirmary door swinging open. Beecher whirled around to see Romanov entering, carrying the two books found in the Castle in his arms. Romanov froze in his tracks when he saw Beecher in Etrius' infirmary room, the emotion in his eyes undetectable behind his glasses. Romanov cleared his throat. "Beecher? You're still awake?"

Beecher ignored him and fixed his attention back to Etrius, who was lying almost lifelessly, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Romanov moved beside him, uncovering the green book and gazing through it's contents, as if looking for a certain page. "We've done some extra research on the books earlier," He turned to another page with strange almost Latin-featured writings and symbols that seemed almost impossible to decode. "The Wise One included something that we missed translating. It reads: The one, who touches the sphere, inherits the power inside. So when Etrius picked up the artifact, whatever power inside was transferred to him, and evaded his death."

"I kind of heard that part already. Tell me something I don't know," Was Beecher's only reply, not entirely interested in what Romanov had to say on the subject. If it didn't have an explanation as to why Etrius acted the way he did, or a way to find out more of the General's schemes, they were as good as useless to him.

Romanov's mouth formed a thin line, and he suddenly remembered that Beecher had that kind of attitude where if nothing new came out, he wouldn't care. With this knowledge, he flipped through a few more pages. "He also wrote that the one with the power has a chance to fight back from the creatures."

Beecher seemed to pay half his attention. "Why would he want to fight those freaks? They looked like they were under his control just fine." _Save for the fact that they tried to slaughter us._

"The power came at a large risk. Before the Wise One was slain, he wrote that some sort of… 'Evil presence' found it's way inside the artifact; the same presence that he wrote about on the altar's walls. The reason he sent the evils to guard the Castle is because he didn't want anyone to have this 'parasite' linger in their thought channels. Unfortunately, Etrius now has that parasite inside him, along with the power."

Now, Beecher's full attention shifted to Romanov, his eyes frozen in disbelief. "Wait, back-up. This Freak wouldn't have a voice only hear in horror movies and shit, would it?"

"It's likely. And that presence has a high chance of dominating his nervous system."

"So he can't move?"

"He can still move, but just not by his own will, sometimes."

_Oh, _sometimes_ he can move. That's uplifting information,_ Beecher thought, shooting his inner sarcasm at no one in particular.

Faint running footsteps resounded from outside the closed door again. At first, neither of them paid much attention to them, but then distinct gunshots and shouting were heard. Beecher stood up from his chair and whirled around the face the door. "Since when do we have evacuation practice at this time?"

"We don't." Romanov replied.

Beecher started for the door before turning back to Romanov once more. "Stay here and don't move. If something's going on outside, we can't afford to lose any more researchers."

Beecher gave Etrius one last look before bursting through the door and out the hallways. It was only a moment since Beecher left, when Etrius' hand twitched.

* * *

Beecher's running footsteps echoed down the empty hall. The commotion was coming from outside, and Beecher couldn't just sit around while something this strange was occurring out in the facility courtyards. Bursting through a pair of double doors, Beecher stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw beyond the walkway, spread apart his feet.

The ground seemed to shake against the charging Castle creatures and soldier's gunshots. Soldiers were rushing out of their quarters, and gazing confusedly at the scene before running into the battle. As Beecher looked beyond the facility, he noticed the grey, bleak sky that seemed to backlight the seemingly never-ending silhouette of creatures. There were so many, certain death seemed to be written right in front of them.

Suddenly, Beecher remembered Boomer. He was still in his residence room, and probably didn't know what was going on. He ran to their building.

He sprinted to the nearest set of stairs, slid to a stop, and descended them in a rush. The absence of his sniper in his arms felt deadly enough. If he had a firearm with him, he could rush through the crowds much easier, while simultaneously firing bullets into brains. Beecher's entire focus was on getting to the Elite Team's building, where Boomer probably still was. He tried to get through the facility by running the outer walkways to avoid getting caught in battle without a weapon.

Several stray evils from the battle in the center of the facility charged to attack him, but he knocked them down with a few roundhouse kicks. He'd never been as good with physical combat as with sniping. Accuracy was his main talent and learning unarmed combat was a very steep learning curve, according to his multiple failed attempts at defeating Lloyd in a fighting round.

Just as Lloyd was brought up into Beecher's thoughts, he froze at what he saw ahead. A creature stood about ten feet away, but it was familiar looking, despite the distance. Those eyes were soulless and empty, but the iris had a yellow-brown color ringing in the center. It held a sword.

'Lloyd' was slightly bent forward and the way he walked looked as if he's never walked on two feet before. His eyes stared right into Beecher with a slight flicker of confusion, as if he didn't know who was standing right in front of him.

"…Lloyd?" Beecher said, out of breath, blinking several times to make sure the image in front of him was real and not some hallucination caused by the dangerous memories of the Castle. "Lloyd, is that you?"

'Lloyd' only stared at him for a few moments before slowly walking his way. His walking stretched into a jog, which broke into a run, and he darted past Beecher and into the depth of the facility's battle.

Beecher didn't know how long he was standing there, trying to process what he just saw, when an earsplitting growl boomed ahead of him. He whipped his head up to see a creature—much larger than the others—charging his way. It looked similar to the creatures that had chased him and the surviving teammates through the corridors in the Castle, rippling muscles outlining it's body shape, tough leather skin darker than charcoal. It looked a lot like an oversized demonic shirtless hockey player.

The demon charged at Beecher, knocking him to the ground, flat on his back. Beecher drew his knees up before plunging his boots against the demon's chest. The demon didn't even flinch. Beecher cursed himself for not bringing an extra firearm, but he didn't think he would need it. Beecher drove his right shoulder into the demon, wriggling free before being caught again. He fell face-first into the gravel, his nose bent at a painful angle.

There was a sickening _crunch_, and the demon collapsed on top of him. Through the haze of panic, Beecher came to the conclusion that it was trying to smother him. Well look at that, Castle freaks like to kill their prey while drawing the pain out as long as possible. Gasping for breath, he clawed his way out from under it. He scrambled to his feet and flipped around.

The demon was dead, a bullet hole lodged into the side of it's head. Boomer rose from his hiding position on the upper walkway, a shotgun gripped firmly in his arms, somewhat satisfied with his kill. He couldn't wait; gripping the railing, he whirled over the upper walkway and met up with Beecher. "I didn't see you in your room during all this. Where the fuck were you?"

"I never knew those freaks were attacking us until I left Etrius' infirmary-" Beecher stopped himself, letting what he just said sink in. He gave Boomer a long, grasping stare and they both knew they were sharing the same thought. They took off running to Etrius' reserved Clinic room.

Beecher swung the door open, shouting immediate orders through natural instinct. "Romanov. Get out—!" He froze in mild shock. Romanov _and_ Etrius were gone. Beecher gritted his teeth in anger as a cold, vindictive part of him took over. "Damn it, I told that crackpot not to move." Seething rage rippled through his voice.

"_Elite Unit. …Elite Unit! Goddamn it, Beecher I know you have your radio on_." The General's voice crackled through his ear-set. Beecher groaned before turning to Boomer. "That greedy bastard General's causing us more shit."

Beecher pressed on his earpiece, not saying a word.

"_We need you and Boomer at the portal site, _now_,_" A few gunshots and swearing rang out before the General spoke again. "_Those creatures are trying to get through the gates. Make sure you get there first_!"

* * *

Etrius felt as if the world around him was swaying. He stumbled back, reaching out for something to keep his balance. "No… No, this isn't real," Etrius heard the words coming from somewhere near him. He realized they were his. "It can't end like this." He focused his attention back to the parasite, which was now walking towards him; a violent glow seemed to pour through his eyes, as if lit from within. "**Your kind was too easy to dominate. You're just as weak as the Wise One.**"

Without warning, Etrius grabbed the parasite by his neck, pinning him against the wall and vising his airway. "_You son of a bitch_!" Pure vehemence coursed through his words. "_Get the fuck out of my head_!" A portion of him tried telling himself that this all wasn't real, that he was probably hallucinating. A bitter half of him wanted to take action, and do everything he could in his power to stop it. He couldn't let this world fall, much less be left to drown in his own misery and hate what he's become.

Etrius' vising grip on the parasite's neck hardened, but then slackened when he realized that the parasite was giving no reaction. The parasite uttered a harsh screech, and Etrius was thrown back ten feet, and crashing into one of the maze's walls. His eyes rolled back into his head as he sank to the ground.

When he regained awareness, he knew he couldn't have been out for long. He scrambled to his feet and scanned his surroundings. The parasite was gone. Through his seething rage, he thrust his shoe against the wall, sending it to crumble. Etrius stared at the debris in shock.

* * *

As Boomer and Beecher arrived at the portal site, a thick, black mist hung over the bloody battlefield of soldiers and creatures in hopes of lowering the human army's accuracy. The ethereal glowing blue of the portal seemed to be the only sign of light in this darkness of a battle. Beecher never told anyone, but every time he came near it, he would get this mixture of unknown emotions, emotions he could sometimes never understand. But he never bothered telling anyone. Why should he? After all, it was the only seeming hope that stood against what the General probably had planned.

Beecher gestured to Boomer to take the left side of the battle, while he took the right. If they were going to stop these freaks from getting through the portal and into Earth, they needed to encase the army from both sides, while simultaneously killing creatures in hopes of lowering their numbers and then meet at the portal itself. It was a weak plan, but they didn't have the time to stop and think everything through.

"You don't have a weapon!" Boomer shouted to Beecher before he could charge off. Beecher didn't have the time to retrieve his sniper from his room, since they were suddenly called to protect the portal. Without a weapon, Beecher was as good as dead. Beecher pointed at the thrashing army of creatures. "No, but they do. I'll get one; you just find Lloyd and get to that portal!" Beecher ran into the black fog before Boomer could say anything else.

As Boomer fought his way through the black mist, the air felt strange to the touch. It was almost as if ice-cold water had been laced in the air around him, but his clothes and hair remained dry. Despite the sensations, the scent smelled of chalk and dust. Firing bullets into brains, he recalled that Beecher had told him that he saw Lloyd charge into the army, but his clothes were tattered, and his eyes were glowing. It was obvious that he had been turned and he'd watched enough anime to understand that he needed to talk some memory bullshit into him to bring him back. Would it be the same with Etrius?

Beecher ran through the mist, giving the dark battlefield a long, vital stare. The terrain of the battlefield offered little-to-no hiding places for cover. The portal divided two large podiums that stood on either end. Beecher climbed on one of them, and from there, he had an unobstructed view of the battle. Blood painted the courtyard's stone floor. Creatures and Soldiers alike skidded on it. The creatures were outnumbered 100 to 1, but they were growing in size by the second. If they didn't think of a plan soon, the creatures would descend over them like a black cloud. Each of the creatures held a wielding sword, and he made a wild guess that they had hundreds of them stashed somewhere in the Castle. Before he did anything, he needed a weapon.

He glanced below the podium he stood on to see a stray creature running out of the army, right below where he was. Beecher kneeled down on the edge of the podium and prepared to jump. When the creature came close enough to him, Beecher let himself fall, and he landed right on the creature's head, smashing it into pieces. Ignoring the brain-parts and gore on his shoes, he plucked the sword from it's hands and ran back into the surging battle.

Beecher decided to keep on the outer part of the army. If he ran too deep, he could lose track of where he was and take even longer to get to the portal. Romanov said that the parasite inside of him could dominate his nervous system, meaning he had no control of his own movements. The parasite was in control of his every move. But Etrius was still alive. If he could reach him, maybe he could take advantage and regain control.

Swinging his sword lethally at any creatures that dared to come within two feet of him, he made his way through the black mist and to the portal. Freaked Etrius seemed to be waiting for him. He watched Beecher with glowing eyes, slightly wielding a sword in his firm grip. They circled each other, knees bent, ready to spring to attack. Beecher tried something. "Etrius. Don't you know who I am?"

Instead of answering, Freaked Etrius continued to stare at Beecher before getting the principle to attack. He lunged for him, swinging his sword lethally at his head. Fake Etrius sprang from it's swath, blocking the attacks with several explosive blows of his own. Beecher recalled the sword training that he'd had with Lloyd. The more you lean, the more balance you lose, and you'll be knocked over just as easily. He was good with accuracy, but when the time came for putting power behind his blows, he could be caught at a disadvantage. Realizing he needed a better method, Beecher sprinted to his left, looking back to make sure Etrius was following.

Freaked Etrius two-handed his sword, hacking and slashing his way after Beecher through the crowd of fighting creatures and soldiers. The blade of his sword clanged against the stone floor of the facility.

Once Beecher had Etrius in a cornered area, he whirled around and kept his sword raised shoulder-level. Beecher faked left, but Etrius wasn't in the mood for games. He raised his blade and sent it striking down. Beecher blocked the attack, and the impact of the blades sent vibrations up his arm. He clenched his teeth to battle the pain. Beecher hadn't been training with swords or physical combat long enough for Etrius to overpower him. Did the parasite possessing Etrius increase his swordsmanship, or was it just using his memory of training? However it worked, it seemed unimportant at the moment.

The two battled in a blur of rapid strokes, each of them knowing that neither was going to give up. But Beecher knew what was going to happen if he kept playing defense. Etrius slashed at him with the sword, but Beecher lunged out of the way, and the tip of Etrius' sword wedged themselves into the stone floor, jammed. Etrius gripped the edge of the sword and tugged at it multiple times, but it wouldn't come out. He looked to his left and right, but realized that he was cornered. Freaked Etrius slunk back against the corner, hands splaying the walls, teeth gleaming. Beecher thought he had him.

Raising his sword over his head, he aimed at Etrius' chest… But he then stopped himself. Breathing heavily, he took in reality. He saw who he was about to kill, right in front of him. He was going to take the only person's life that he could trust, without so much a second thought? Etrius was still there, probably trying to find a way to get out, and killing him would result in utter failure. He lowered his sword.

_What am I doing?_

Freaked Etrius stared at Beecher. His glowing eyes moved with emotion that was torn between serenity and alert. Still out of breath, Beecher rasped, "Don't make me say some bullshit like, 'I know you're in there'. This could work if you fucking listen to what I'm saying." Freaked Etrius continued staring, but his eyes looked somewhat different. The glowing had died down, and the iris didn't move with the certain evil the parasite had. For a second, it almost looked like the real Etrius was standing right in front of him.

But just as soon as it happened, it stopped. Those evil eyes took over once more, and this time, they were burning with rage. Freaked Etrius clenched his teeth before swinging his arm out, as if slicing the air. Beecher felt as if a battering ram had hit him in the chest, throwing him back against the large platform standing beside the portal. His back hit the surface, making it crack and he slid down until he hit the bottom. His sword had flown out of his grip and the emptiness in his hands suddenly felt very real. He swallowed down panic.

He made an attempt to jump back into the fight, but Freaked Etrius lashed his arm out again and an invisible force knocked him right back against the wall. The stone behind him fractured and crumbled as he heard one of his bones produce a _snap_. The force pinning him against the wall felt like a hand vising his neck, blocking his airway. He clawed at his neck, trying to undo the invisible grip that had formed on his neck, but his fingers grasped nothing. His legs jerked as he struggled to breathe in air. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Etrius had his hand raised mid-air, and his fingers were curled, like the invisible hand vising Beecher's airway.

He gave Etrius one long, disbelieving look. The scene was real and plausible, right in front of him, but at the same time he wanted all this to be a dream. Why couldn't it be as simple as in the movies? : Wake up in cold sweat and realize that everything wasn't real. Lights began to explode across his vision as he could feel his lungs tightening from lack of air. His eyes began to roll up.

And then the invisible force's grip slackened.

* * *

Etrius stared into the darkness beyond his eyes, interpreting faint images of what was going on in front of him. The parasite gripped control of his actions, forcing him not to move. He hated the situation and wanted nothing more than to just get everything over with already. Did it really have to draw the strain out as long as possible? He focused back on the images. Beecher's eyes rolled up.

With a burst of strength, he threw every inch of his willpower into overdrive. Unlike the sensations that he'd felt in the maze—an ill-defined form of air—he felt his own focusing into sense. He curled his hand into a fist, and then loosened it. He gave the moving images one more glances, seeing Beecher suck in a deep breath and falling back down.

* * *

Beecher understood what was going on. What made things bad was the fact that he was in the center of it. Did he really have to be the subject to have two other forces pulling at his arms in need? What the fuck. Gasping and winding for air, he reeled his head up to face the enemy, whose eyes had been replaced with Etrius'. Before he did anything, he needed to make sure that that was the real Etrius. "Etrius? …Don't tell me that's not you."

Etrius didn't answer. Instead, he gazed ahead, emotionlessly, as if looking for something lost. His attention seesawed in and out of focus as he tried to become acute of his surroundings. His grip on his sword slackened, and a small breathe escaped him. Beecher realized that getting Etrius back was going to be harder than he thought. He thought about calling Boomer for immediate assistance, but then realized they needed to stick to the plan and have him search for and stop Lloyd.

Etrius stared at Beecher but didn't say anything. Beecher was still gasping for air, but the deafening echoes of war around them seemed to mute and darken. Beecher stumbled to his feet, each step he took becoming heavier. He tried to approach Etrius with caution, as that _thing_ still might be in control of his mind. He opened his mouth to say something, but Etrius beat him to it. He bowed his head down and uttered something incomprehensible. He looked back at Beecher, a small trace of anger and resistance moving in his eyes.

Beecher realized what the parasite was doing. It _knew_ that Etrius was going to continue resisting, so it was trying to coil his will into believing that Beecher was his enemy.

"Don't listen to it," Beecher blurted. "It's just toying with your mind. Whatever it's telling you, don't listen to it!"

Etrius shook his head before squeezing his eyes shut and curling his fingers into a fist. He knew he couldn't hold the parasite back forever, but he needed to stall long enough for Beecher to work out the plan… If he had one. Seeing his fallen sword at his feet, Beecher picked it up, carefully approaching Etrius with it raised shoulder-level.

Suddenly, Etrius' eyes popped open, the glowing evil now taken their place. With another swift lash of his arm, Beecher was thrown yet again into the wall. This time, the back of his skull collided excruciatingly against the stone. His vision darkened, and it took him a second to realize that he was on the floor. The most vivid image he could see was the blue glowing portal that shimmered with an iridescent light, and the hundreds of creatures pouring through. The creatures couldn't do much damage on the other side of the portal unless their leader was there to guide them. Etrius had managed to get past Beecher, but he wasn't sure the same with Lloyd.

Beecher watched as Etrius ran off to the portal without as much as a second glance back. He tried to get up, but his vision was doubling in and out of focus and he still felt as if he were lingering somewhere outside of his body.

The battlefield was being emptied, one by one as the creatures ran through the portal. Their bodies passed through the single layer of light before fading away. The scientists frantically attempted to close the portal, but several creatures were climbing up the two slabs on either side of it, tearing some of the pieces apart and causing it to be forced open.

Beecher blacked out, the stench of blood being his last sense.

* * *

Solid hands grasped his shoulders. Beecher knew the shouting voice was right next to him, but it sounded a thousand miles away. "Holy fuck. Don't move, stay on your back."

His eyes popped open. The first object he saw was the portal, which was still shimmering with that iridescent blue light. He was still lying on his back in the portal sight, which was now a blood-painted, empty battlefield. Faint images of blood, swords, bullets and fighting flashed across his vision. Even when he closed his eyes, he could still see the blood shower. How long was he out? Etrius and the others had been fighting to escape through the portal, and he had no idea what they were doing now that they finally did it.

A sphere of white light moved from one side of his line of vision to the other, and red tinged the edges of his vision. Boomer kneeled next to him, blood matting his tan hair and staining his battle-hardened face. His lips were moving, but Beecher could barely make sense of the words. Beecher stared back at the retreating image of the portal. He couldn't just fail when they got so close. What was worse than the General using the power for himself was having Etrius—the one who longed to protect it—destroy what was remaining.

Beecher pressed his elbows against the stone floor and tried to sit up-right; ignoring Boomer's warning to stay down. Something in his ribcage snapped, and he heard it before he felt it. In a flicker of dim lights, he blacked out again.

* * *

** The release date for the next chapter would be around June 30th. I've just been so bust the last week, it's ridiculous :( Anyway, plz leave a review!**


	17. Chapter 16 - A Chaos Untwined

**A/N- To be honest, this was my least favorite chapter to post. I was going to add in more events, but I split the rough drafts to add up to a cliff-hanger. I promise something a little more interseting next chapter. :P**

* * *

_ Lloyd and Etrius kept their backs pressed against the wall as their eyes raked the shadows around the next dark corridor, weapons clutched tightly in their solid grips. They held their rifles tighter, keeping their swords slung over their backs. Lloyd was so used to using his sabre; the rifle in his arms felt foreign enough. Beecher and Boomer were sent to different locations in the building, keeping radios with them to keep in contact. They didn't want their terrorist union leader escaping through any other sections of the building. There were only two exits in the entire building, so the team split up into groups of two to make sure he didn't get out. The Elite Team had managed to get out of military surveillance and find their way to the building the terrorist union leader was hiding—which was what the information page stated. The area was remote of city life, making it perfect for plotting and planning in secrecy and avoiding anyone else hearing over the phone lines. _

_ Giving the dark corridor one last long, doubtful look, Etrius and Lloyd moved in, finding themselves on the base of a long stairway that blended into darkness further up. Etrius stared into the darkness beyond the stairway before gesturing Lloyd to follow him behind and watch his back in case any unwanted guards sneaked up behind them. Etrius kept his vision raked through the scope of his rifle, keeping an eye out for anyone that could hurdle out of hiding. Lloyd followed a few feet behind, keeping a sharp eye out for any guards that might storm behind them. The darkness sent a shiver down Etrius' spine, chilling his bones to the core; they were wearing bullet-proof vests, but they wouldn't do much against anything at close range._

_ A shadow moved into Etrius' line of vision, and a familiar face peered around the corner. Etrius recognized him as the terrorist union leader. Deeply set black eyes, black facial hair, crooked nose, and a sharp, almost murderous complexion. Etrius aimed for a headshot and pulled the trigger. The leader disappeared behind a corner, and the shot missed. Lloyd and Etrius went after him._

_ The spiral, stone staircase came to an end at a locked door. Looking back at Lloyd for a split second to make sure that he was following, Etrius pressed his back on one side of the door. Lloyd took the other. With a nod, they thrust their boots against the door, knocking it off its hinges._

_ They sprinted down the next hallway, keeping their footsteps at their lightest as to not alert their enemy where they were. Running footsteps sounded through the darkness ahead of them and they knew instantly it was the terrorist leader. It was easy to identify him as an amateur. If he was an expert, he'd be at his quietest while running away. Lloyd reached for his radio to contact Boomer and Beecher. "Beecher, Boomer, respond. He's heading for the upper section of the building," Static answered. "Team, respond. We need to know you're in position." He hooked the radio back on his belt when eerie silence answered him once more. They could only assume that they were sticking to the plan and patrolling the lower exits of the building._

_ The hallway ended at another locked door. There were no other doors or corners, so the leader had to be behind that door. Etrius gestured to Lloyd with a few flicks of his hand. Lloyd took one side of the door while Etrius took the other, keeping their backs against the wall and firearms close to their chests. Neither of them was sure if there were any other exits on the other side of the door, so Etrius gestured to Lloyd to stay behind while he went in. Lloyd stayed in position beside the door while Etrius kicked it down with a swift roundhouse-kick and moved in._

_ Rounding a few turns, Etrius found himself in front of a large room packed with wooden crates, complete with white painted walls and a large, square window that allowed the darkness of outside the flood in. A few dying fluorescent lights flickered on the ceiling._

_ Etrius didn't see the bullet coming. The gunshot slammed into his chest, throwing him back against the back wall. But the vest stopped the bullet even from breaking skin. Scrambling to his feet, he hid beside the archway leading to the room before the leader could fire any other gunshots. Bullets exploded through the archway for a good minute until they suddenly halted. Etrius guessed the leader was reloading. Taking this to his advantage, Etrius burst from hiding and fired a bullet into the leader's mid-section, just outside his bullet-proof vest._

_ The leader stumbled back a few feet before falling on his back, blood thriving across his clothes, his face twisted in pain. His pistol had flown far across the other side of the room, out of his reach. He tried to stand up, but it only did well in faltering again. A sadistic smirk surfaced Etrius' brutal face. He holstered his rifle and unsheathed his sword. He was going to rip this son of a bitch to pieces._

_ "So you think it's funny. You think it's funny to be murdering thousands of innocent people over a few gallons of water." Etrius towered over the killer before he even realized it and drove his sword deep in his shoulder. The relishing taste of revenge crept up to him like frost. He should've gone to the base with the rest of the troops, but the General and the other higher-ups were planning to not kill him on the spot, even after everything he had done. Even so, he was disconcerted to realize that he enjoyed getting the job done himself. There had been a certain thrill in doing something bad and getting away with it. If he wasn't blinded by so much anger and the need for revenge, he would realize that this wasn't who he was._

_ "Did you even bother counting all those lives you've taken?" With the sword still buried deep in his shoulder, he gave the handle a clean twist, followed by a harsh extract of the blade. He didn't want to kill him instantly; he just wanted to draw the pain out for as long as possible so that the agony and vengeance balanced the scale. The cold grip of anger squeezed at his core and it seemed that every time he caused the victim pain, the grip seemed to loosen._

_ The victim tried to crawl away from Etrius, dragging his nails against the floor in a failed attempt to escape. "Please… Stop…" He hissed between his teeth, red liquid leaking out of the corners of his mouth. Etrius planted his boot against the victim's back, splaying him across the floor. He then kicked him to his back and drove his sword deep into his ribcage. "'Please stop'? I don't think so. I won't stop. Not until you tell the devil I said, 'Hello'."_

_ The leader looked all strong and powerful behind his army, but once you took advantage, he was as good as dead._

_ His radio crackled to life. "Etrius. We need to fall back! The General and the rest of the militia came sooner than we thought. Get out of there!" Etrius didn't pay much attention to it. Instead, he held the leader-victim by grasping the front of his shirt, staring cold and mercilessly into his dying eyes. The only thought running through his mind was to savor the victim's pain just a bit longer, just to squeeze out a bit more revenge—and then a vibrant light swept through the large window next to them. Etrius whirled around to face the chopper's spotlight, still holding the victim, who was on his knees, their bodies' silhouettes against the light. Etrius gave the victim one last look before running off._

_ As he rounded turns and stormed down hallways, he could hear multiple running footsteps echoing from all sides of the hallways, and he knew that the troops were raiding the building. But that was impossible. The General was trying to decide when they should leave and invade the building. He should've stayed longer to find out more information before running off. He face-palmed himself for acting so irrational._

_ Someone stormed down the hallway he was in—right in front of him. Etrius slammed into someone, and judging by the armor, he was heavily armed. Etrius slid his rifle out of safety and held him at gunpoint. But he then found himself staring down the barrel of Boomer's rifle. Once they both realized it was just them, they lowered their weapons._

_ "Where's Beecher?" Etrius asked on impulse._

_ "We got separated when those fuckers started running in. Where's Lloyd?"_

_ "We were separated, too. But we need to forget about them and find a way out of here."_

_ Running footsteps sounded from a hallway behind them. They ran._

_ "How are we getting out? We can't go downstairs; troops are raiding every room." Boomer didn't slow his running pace._

_ "We'll make our way to the highest floor and jump off from there—I brought grappling guns." Etrius rushed on when he saw Boomer's perplexed face while simultaneously kicking down another locked door. They rapidly ran through corridors, rounding turns, and storming up staircases. But it wasn't as easy as it looked in movies; with troops raiding the hallways they had to keep their senses on high alert as to not be spotted._

_ It was by the time they reached the highest floor when they realized their mistake. Choppers were surrounding the building from every corner. You'd have to be Chuck Norris to grapple out of the building unnoticed. But neither Etrius nor Boomer had time to think the plan through, hence the army of soldiers. They would have to find their way back down a few stories and grapple off from there. They turned back the other way, but running footsteps and shouting was heard from the dark corridor ahead. The soldiers were heading their way between the choppers, leaving them trapped with no other choice._

_ Boomer swore. Etrius began thumbing through the pages of his memory, searching for a plan that could lead them out. They had no choice. They had to climb to the roof and grapple off from there. They stormed up the final set of stairs and met with an open doorway that led to the roof. Choppers circled the building and the heavily armed aircrafts sent a shiver down Etrius' spine. Holding their breath, they ran._

_ The choppers noticed them immediately as they escaped. Sparks of light exploded from the chopper's side doors, and Etrius and Boomer realized that they were shooting at them. They probably thought that they were members of the terrorist union, hence the distance from the choppers' spotlights. They weren't using heavy grenades, since they knew better than to have an entire building topple over hundreds of troops, which was a good thing._

_ Against all odds, something dropped down from one of the choppers; A gas grenade. No problems in using those. A thick, white mist exploded from the pill-shaped grenade, spreading across the building's roof. Boomer and Etrius turned to the other side of the building, but the other choppers were also throwing gas grenades, leaving them surrounded with no chance of escape._

_ A thick white cloud swept in through the total upper-half of the building. Somewhere in the mist, Etrius lost Boomer's location. His eyes turned red and weary, and he felt as if foaming acid were rising from his throat, clogging his airway. He didn't remember blacking out, but he remembered falling, and he couldn't stop himself. Confusing thoughts circulated his mind like a whirlwind as he tried to get a grip on reality. Black and spots of purple streaked his vision's outline, working the edges in. He was unconscious before he hit the ground._

* * *

Even before Beecher opened his eyes, he knew he was in an infirmary room. The alcoholic smell of linctus filled his nose with the lingering scent of heavy chemical. The ceiling was white, the walls a serene grey. His eyes were sticky, his brain was muddled up with so many thoughts from the drugs that they might've been strewn with cobwebs, and the sheets tangled at his legs. The memory came storming back.

The sudden flash images of war and battle ran across his vision. He tried sitting upright, but his arms were a tangle of tubes and medical monitoring equipment. He sank back down. Bandages were wrapped around his shirtless ribcage, but he was still wearing his combat slacks. A dim flicker of sleep remained, dulling his focus. He was flat on his back on the bed, a chilling shiver running down his spine that produced a layer of goose bumps on his skin. Something stirred in the corner.

"You're awake. You look like Etrius." Boomer said, vague and narrow. He sat hunched over in a chair, wrists hanging from his knees.

The shattered bits of elusive memories began to piece themselves back together; Etrius left him defeated and ran through the portal with the remaining army of Castle creatures following behind. What happened to Lloyd? Did the creatures manage to get past security on the other side of the portal? There weren't too many troops on the earth side, since most of them were working on the Castle project. Many of the creatures had also damaged the portal, causing it to be forced open. But what happened _exactly?_ The lack of answers nipped away at his patience and stability. "What happened?"

Boomer's mouth formed a thin line and his eyes moved with dejection, quick and swift. Beecher guessed that whatever happened since he passed out, it wasn't good. Boomer uttered a heavy sigh, as if trying to find a way around what he was to say next. "The security on the other side of the portal didn't manage to collect their troops in time. The black mist and those demons spread through the entire earth facility—and then the mist multiplied until it dominated the entire government area."

Beecher wasn't entirely surprised. He'd seen enough agonizing deaths and unbelievable events happen while in the castle. Nothing surprises him anymore. "Haven't the troops gotten there in time to stop them?"

"They did—but those freaks' numbers were growing way too fast. You wouldn't believe what that mist is capable of."

"Believe me, I do."

"It can touch humans, but bullets pass right through it."

That didn't sound good, either way. "How far have the mist and the freaks multiplied?"

"They've managed to get as far out as the entire earth facility, but we've stopped them there. It won't last long. Those freaks are going to keep digging until they reach bedrock—and by that, I mean they have the ability to wipe out the entire human race. If we can find Etrius again and get him to transfer his power back into the orb, we can beat those freaks down much easier. You've known Etrius much longer than any of us—_you_ need to get this done."

"Forget it," was Beecher's only reply, surprisingly. Boomer stared at him and blinked multiple times, as if trying to decipher what Beecher just said. "What?" He said it in a way in which he most sincerely hoped he was joking. When Beecher replied to him with a grim look, Boomer said. "What do you mean, 'forget it'? Why would you—?"

"Boomer, don't you fucking get it? The General was lying to us all along; Etrius said it himself. If we give the power to him and the higher-ups, Earth still won't survive, and it would be better to have it fade from existence by it's own hand. They never had intentions to save Earth, so what difference would it make? Mankind will die either way."

Boomer's silence stretched out as he pondered what Beecher just said. "If that's the path you're taking, fine. I'm only going to find Lloyd and Etrius to try and bring them back. I'm not leaving them like that," Realizing that he was showing his minor side again, he changed the subject. "No one has shelters or evacuation plans for something like this. The doc said the black mist might have the capability to dominate the planet and devour the entire human race. They did it with the Ancients."

The door burst open. With his silhouette standing against the white light of outside, the General blurted. "Boomer, we need you in Quarter Three Point—"

He stopped when he saw Beecher fully awake, fixing him with a shadowy glare, slow and dark. Beecher could easily tell that the General had some bad news waiting to get off his chest, but his seething hatred and agonizing betrayal revealed his vindictive self. Trying to ignore Beecher's sneer, the General let loose the bad news. "Romanov is missing. We checked the entire facility, but he vanished. He left the two books behind and took the orb with him."

Despite everything, Beecher saw flashes of a connection that linked from Romanov to the higher-ups. Did Romanov know about the General's plans? Did he take the orb with him so that the General wouldn't be able to snatch the power from Mankind's hands? Ludicrous. It was unlikely that out of everyone in the facility, only Romanov could figure out the General's schemes.

Once the General left, Beecher swung his legs over the side of his bed and grimaced in the sudden pain that spiked up his back, tracing from his rib-cage. Surprisingly, the ache had lessened from the fresh wave of pain caused by the fight earlier. "How long was I out?"

Boomer's eyes still held that redness from exhaustion and darker circles had formed under them. He murmured, cold and envious. "You were sleeping for almost a week. Bastard."

* * *

He needed to find a way out of here. If he didn't, he knew exactly what was going to happen with Earth, and more importantly, what the General would do. Etrius wondered what would happen if someone in reality had managed to kill him. Would he be freed, or would he die inside the prison of his own self? He managed to defy death when the General shot him in the altar, but there was nothing in control of him at the time. Did that make any difference? Now, running through the towering, seemingly never-ending maze, the only thought important to him was on finding that mirror-image of himself and killing it… _If_ he could kill anything like that. The cold air nipped and pricked his skin like needles. His lungs were tightening from exhaustion and he felt as if the space around him was being void of air. He clasped his throat, hoping he couldn't suffocate in here.

He slid to a stop when he came to a dead end. He swiveled around to move back the other way but another wall blocked his path; trapped. He turned around again to see the mirror-image of himself, giving him a jolt of fear to run down his spine. The image stared at him, a dense hint of triumph gleaming under the surface of his eyes. Searing hatred and determination rippled through Etrius as he pushed aside his boiling fear. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

The image didn't loosen it's gaze. "**I have what I want. And I'll use it for what I need.**"

"You're not laying a finger on Earth. There's no way I'm letting you." Etrius forced resolve behind his words.

The image uttered a rough chuckle, deep and abrasive. "Too late for that."

Etrius blinked in surprise. The image suddenly sounded like him. But, how? More importantly, why? "_What_?" Without warning, a sharp blazing sensation tore through his neck and pounded through his mind. Flash images of disfigured objects flickered beyond his eyes, and it took him a while to interpret what they were. He realized that the mirror image of himself was forcing mental images through his vision. Death and destruction ran across his vision. _People are dying_. Etrius managed to find through the blinking pictures. _Earth is _dying._ And it's my fault._

Were these images pictures of Earth right now? Had the parasite actually managed to finish off what the resource war couldn't do? The rapid thoughts and flinging images sent doubts to reinforce in his chest as to whether or not the parasite had actually killed off humanity, the same with the Ancients.

* * *

The General sat still in his office, but the amount of emails and phone calls he was receiving made him feel as if he were carrying boulders of stone on his shoulders. He ferociously slammed his fingers on the keys, replying to emails as fast as his fingers could move. By the end of the day, he was sure that his keyboard would need replacing. Hours have passed, and the mist had stretched much farther from the facility, nearing civility. Civilians were already being evacuated, but there was no telling how long the mist could multiply. The scientists and researchers gathered enough information to understand that the mist _couldn't_ be stopped by physical means. They needed the original power source to stop it, and that would mean having to find Etrius. But before they did anything, they needed to find Romanov. He knew the Castle much more than the others working on the project.

The General scanned through the reports and messages. Residents were being evacuated, but they were running out of shelters. Soon, everyone was told to stay inside their homes and lock their doors as the darkness descended over the vulnerable cities like a black cloud. They needed the power source, now more than ever. The General's radio headset rung, but he was way too occupied with everything else going on to notice, much less care. But whoever was calling him didn't seem to give up on whatever the reason was.

It was at the point when the General couldn't take it any longer when he pressed the answer button on his headset. "_What is it, now?_" The General didn't even worry about not being professional. Who had time for professionalism in the middle of an alternate-dimensional war? The General's eyes slowly widened at what the private—stammering and exclaiming—on the other side was saying.

* * *

The chopper emerged from the blue shimmering portal and into the grey, vague dimension, landing gently on the helipad. But the medics and soldiers exiting were rushing and hurrying, spawning confusion among the crowd surrounding the helipad. The General stood a far distance away from the chopper before rushing forth to see a group of medics rushing out of the chopper carrying a body on a stretcher. "What the hell happened? Where's the artifact?"

Beecher and Boomer met up with the crowd to see what everyone was so intrigued with. The unconscious Doc was being taken into the infirmary on a stretcher, while the General stayed behind, speaking with one of the medics. "We found him like that inside the resource recovery building in the human dimension. A team of troops were sent in and retrieved him before a pack of creatures attacked them."

"And the artifact?" The General asked a little too quickly. That artifact was the only way of returning Earth's resources, and he wasn't sure about Earth; he just needed it for his superiors. If they lost the artifact, they lost everything.

The medic shook his head. "Another squad of soldiers was sent in earlier. They reported back seeing the artifact embedded in resource engine… In _reverse_."

The resource engine was a large device about the size of a TV Cabinet. Scientists and Researchers in the human dimension managed to actually build a device that had the ability to spread power and energy as far as the planet's diameter. The device was completed, but the actual artifact was the only object missing. Why would Romanov plant the orb inside the device in _reverse_?

"We've also claimed reports about sightings of the source of power near the same building." The medic continued.

The General grunted, only half-satisfied that they now knew Etrius' whereabouts.

"We've came up with a theory that Etrius was able to…" He groped around for words. "Control his victim's movements. We're saying that Romanov might've been controlled into reversing the device's effects. The squad of soldiers sent in to investigate the power was cut off before they were able to return. They reported back seeing, what appeared to be, an army of the creatures surrounding the building in defensive ranks. If we're planning on going back there again, a team of troops isn't going to handle that."

The General's face didn't falter, but his mind was spinning with questions. So Etrius was the one who reversed the machines effects? The parasite was controlling Romanov into reversing the device, but one question still hung in the air. Why?

After the medic left to rush to the infirmary, Boomer and Beecher jogged to the scene, partially intrigued with what they just heard. Beecher recalled the many times he heard conversations between the militia about the resource engine. Once they had the power in their hands, they had to use it to distribute resources to the weaker places on Earth. He thought that since the General and the higher-ups were never going to give the power to anyone else in the first place, the resource engine would have to sit there and rust, while Earth dies.

"The parasite consumed the ancient's planet." Boomer started, breaking the silence. The way his eyes moved looked like he was digging in his memory for something too complex to grasp. "After that, it had nowhere else to go, like it was stuck in a cage. When we opened the portal to get into their dimension and took the artifact, then it was set free. It came here to devour our planet and consume every last resource. It came to the device's effects to distribute energy throughout the planet, and it took Romanov to reverse the effects. That means it's going to use the device to suck Earth dry of everything."

The General whirled around to face Boomer, pondering what he just said with the slightest sign of panic burning in his eyes. "And the parasite is already there! That's it; we're out of time. Both of you—get geared up; we're leaving ASAP. I'm ordering every man alive in this facility to—"

"And you can afford to care?" Beecher blurted, a little too loud. "I guess so; you wouldn't want your power being given to some parasite instead."

The General's face blanched and his blood went cold. His steady eyes cautiously scanned the portal sight for anyone who might've heard. It seemed that there weren't too many people wandering the portal sight for them to overhear what Beecher just said. The General's frozen eyes then hardened to a deep, abiding anger. "First, I've heard enough from you. Second, Etrius was disoriented when we first saw him. That overdose of power could've caused him confusion."

Beecher wasn't going to believe his lies again. "Then why were you looking around in panic just now?"

"It makes sense that I want to attract false accusations? Gear up and get ready." And he was gone.

Through the haze of his searing anger, Beecher didn't know how long he was standing there until Boomer said his name.

"I'm not going to believe him for one second. Not now, not ever. I know he wants the power for himself, and then that parasite is going to ring mankind dry of everything." He hated to admit it, but he knew the truth: For once, without Etrius, he didn't know what to do. It was either stop the General or stop the parasite, and either way, Earth will die.

Turning on his heels, he headed back to his private dorm, Boomer following beside him. "If we let the parasite absorb all of Earth's resources, mankind is extinct instantly. If we transfer the power back in the orb, the General will take it, and mankind will still be the way it is."

"Then let's get that artifact back. It'll give us a chance to get Lloyd and Etrius back. True, the General can take and abuse the power, but we won't let that happen. If he tries to take it, we're not going down without a fight."

Beecher pondered this. Both choices were likely to have the same outcome, but retrieving the power and getting their teammates back outweighed the other. War was coming. The only objectives left to do were get Etrius and Lloyd back, and protect the power from a resource-thirsty General and military higher-ups. Simple. He eyed Boomer and they knew they were sharing the same thought. Beecher spoke first. "Then let's get ready for war."


End file.
